The Mist in the Mountains
by LadyPeck
Summary: When Michael Burnham's shuttle crash lands on her way to shore leave with a few other crewmen, it is the USS Enterprise that is sent to rescue her. As Spock and two members go to retrieve them from a xenophobic, matriarchal society, they soon find themselves caught in the middle of a tense political situation.
1. Imbalance

**Spock**

_Lieutenant Spock, Personal Log, Stardate 225504.07._

It has been three years since I have seen my foster sister, Michael Burnham. While I have no desire to do so now, I have received word that her shuttle has crash landed on Sebenn, a planet two light years from Bacchus Two, a human settled pleasure planet upon which she, and three other crewmen, were to take shore leave from the USS Shenzhou. Due to a call for emergency relief efforts on the Federation Colony of Ledra, the Shenzhou is unable to effect rescue efforts. As the nearest ship, the Enterprise has been sent to recover Commander Burnham, et al. I am uncertain of my part in this mission, nor how Michael will react to my presence, should I be included in any rescue efforts directly. I will, of course, uphold my duties, but I do not look forward to meeting up with her. Perhaps fortune will favor both Michael and me, and we will be spared an awkward and unwanted reunion.

* * *

Spock sat back in his chair and gazed out of the window that offered him a view of warp space that blurred past. He suspected his captain and crew welcomed this mission. They'd spent the past three months ferrying diplomats around Federation space like a glorified, armored taxi service. This would be the first mission of substance for a long time. This would give them a chance to actually do something besides shake hands and engage in diplomatic double speak.

To say that what Spock felt now was anxiety would have been an overstatement, but not by much. Caution. He had zero doubt Michael had survived the crash. If she had died, he'd know it. They were, after all, bonded. No one knew. Michael had said it would be a source of embarrassment to their family if word got out, but it was not the family that would be embarrassed. It was just her. Even thinking it angered him. Hurt him. It seemed that no matter what he did, she would never fully accept him in the ways he needed her to.

Michael Burnham was a survivor. She'd have done all in her power to save the others and herself in such a situation. What he was concerned about was his emotional reaction to seeing her, by screen or in person. Just seeing her on a photo his mother had sent made him go from feeling like a man to a child. A child still in pain from her attempt to run away years ago to save their family from logic extremists.

Logic extremists, an oxymoron if ever there was one. There was nothing logical about extremism. They were purists, xenophobes who lacked the courage to own what emotional fools they were. While he understood her reasons, admired them even, he couldn't completely move past what she'd done. He couldn't move past what had happened the last time they had attempted a truce, had given in to the feelings, the desires that had been there, ignored, shaming them, for years after they'd grown up. Her rejection that time still wounded him.

Closing his eyes, Spock searched for her through the bond they hadn't been willing to break. She was there. Distance couldn't quite disconnect them, not completely. She was aware of him reaching out to her. He backed away. She was alive. He had his answer.

"Don't," he told himself, but his mind went back to that first kiss despite his efforts to forget it.

* * *

Spock wishes he didn't have to attend either school or family functions with her. He doesn't want to be here, so he spends most of his time hiding in his room. He wishes Sybok could at least be here. His half brother is too radical for Sarek, however. He won't be allowed in the walls of his father's house where he can potentially corrupt his younger brother with ideas of embracing emotion rather than denying them.

Now he stands in front of Michael, face aching from the control it takes not to allow rage to contort his features. Yet another fight has erupted after an awkward moment the night before. Michael has no such compunctions. She lets her feelings show.

"It's wrong," she says.

"Yet it happened," he replies coolly.

"Such thoughts are perverse. They have no place in our minds."

Spock cocks an eyebrow. "Our minds?"

"Your mind," she hurries to correct. "Those were your thoughts."

"Yes. I reached out to you and you indulged them, shared them, until guilt pulled you from me."

Spock reaches out again, trying to understand her. Trying to make a connection. He feels her turmoil. She wants nothing to do with him, yet she desires him. She shuts down with mental discipline any Vulcan would envy.

This time he reaches for her physically. She slaps his hand away. He can see her pulse thunder in the well of her throat. This close, he can hear the catch in her breath. He can smell a change in her. Arousal. He reaches for her again and grips her in both hands.

"Don't touch me, Spock."

He pulls her flush against him. "If you tell me to stop I'll walk away. But we've had this attraction for years. It is illogical to deny what we both know is between us."

He's got her against her desk now, in her bedroom. A desk they'd completed lessons at, played chess at in childhood. He presses against her, feels her thighs part, presses harder. He waits for a no. Brushes his lips against hers, waits even as they share breath. She tries to speak.

Spock slips his tongue into Michael's open mouth and receives a moan in response. Her small hands grip his tunic and pulls him closer. He releases her arms and grips her legs, desperate to open her thighs so he press his aching erection against her, to find some relief against the throbbing need in his body. She wraps her legs around him, groans, her tongue a wild thing in his mouth that drives him mad with lust. Drives him to grind against her until she's whimpering into his mouth.

"Spock? Michael? Are you here?"

Amanda.

They break apart in a panic. By the time their mother opens the bedroom door they're on opposite sides of the desk, a holographic chess game they'd never finished projected between them.

"You're playing chess! Oh, how lovely. I never thought the day would come when you'd stop fighting and become friends again. Siblings again."

She didn't see the tremble in Michael's hand. The desk thankfully hid Spock's tortured state.

"A game of chess," Michael says, with admirable calm, "is a good starting point."

Spock prays his mother doesn't want to join them at the desk for a family discussion. He needs to be away from Michael. Take care of the need raging in his trousers, but there's no way it would go unnoticed if he stood. And if Sarek walked in he would feel the truth. Smell it.

"Yes, it is. I'll leave you to it. Don't forget to talk. Remember what you used to have. You can be family again."

As soon as she leaves, Michael looks at Spock. They both think the same thing…they'll never be "family" again. Not the way their mother means it.

* * *

Captain Pike's voice pulled Spock from his reverie. "Lieutenant Spock to Briefing Room One."

"Acknowledged, Captain."

He left his quarters and made his way to deck two. He passed crew mates along the way, most of them absorbed in duties at hand, though some acknowledged him with a curt nod. He entered the briefing room and found it occupied by Captain Pike, his first officer, Number One, and security specialist Ensign Baratta.

"I expected a larger team," Number One said.

"Normally we would, but in this instance it wouldn't be prudent," Pike said. "I've received orders from Command that we're to expose as little of our crew to the Sebennians as possible."

"Pre-warp?" Baratta asked.

"They've been warp capable for about two hundred years. They're unwilling to initiate contact with other races. They have a permanent Do Not Disturb notice hanging from their door."

"I take it they're unaware of our people and their predicament?" Spock asked.

Pike shook his head. "They are but they refuse to render aid or become involved in rescue operations. They have requested that we come and get our people, and get out."

"Maybe a neutral response is the best we can hope for," said Spock. "They're unwilling to lend aid, but they have not acted as aggressors, either."

"We arrive in orbit around Sebenn in forty minutes," Pike said. "They have refused to give us more than the shuttle trajectory once entering their atmosphere. Transporters are off the table."

"They want nothing to do with us, want as little exposure as possible, but they don't want us to simply beam our people out and leave?" Number One asked.

"Quite the contrary," Pike answered. "Their defensive shields, and their primary energy grid overlaps and interferes with transporter signals. They won't lower shields, and even if they did, it would be too risky to beam them out. Spock, Baratta, you will take a class three shuttle to the surface, retrieve our people, and bring them home as quickly as possible."

"And me?" Number One asked.

"You will act as a liaison to the Sebennian Diplomatic Corps Prime. This is a matriarchal society. With you being a woman, and a diplomat, I feel your talents are uniquely suited for the job. The shuttle will drop you off at the Embassy before they depart for the crash site. Does everyone understand your mission?"

"Understood."

"I wish I had more time for you to prepare, Number One."

"I'll wing it," she said, winking at Pike. "I'll try not cause a diplomatic incident or a war."

Pike winked back and then headed for the door. "Dismissed. I'm sure you'll all make Starfleet proud."

"I suppose I was put on this mission for my medical expertise more than my security training," Baratta said.

She was Tennian, short, slender, deceptively strong. Her people were a distant cousin to Vulcans. They had the same elfin ears though their brows were not as sharply upswept. Their blood ran green, like their Vulcan cousins.

"Likely," Spock agreed. "You are also female. That will garner some respect among the Sebennians."

A smile crooked her lips, making them all but vanish. Unlike Vulcans, they had no qualms about expressing emotion. His mother had once likened them to the weird cousin nobody wanted around at the family reunion whenever Vulcans encountered the Tennians.

Once weapons and other supplies were loaded on board, Number One stepped in and replaced Spock at the helm.

"I did some reading on these people," Number One said. "They were refused entry into the Federation eighty years ago because they're not evolved enough to value the men in their culture. Only the women hold any real power, and the little men are expected to stay home barefoot and pregnant."

She smiled when Spock quirked a brow.

"The men?"

"Yeah. The men carry and deliver the children."

"Fascinating."

"I thought so too. It's disappointing they have such a silly bias. The Federation liaison at the time, Sarek of Vulcan, found their people to be quite intriguing."

Spock had not known his father had ever visited Sebenn. Then again, there was a lot he didn't know about his father.

The shuttle departed Enterprise and turned toward an M-Class world that was remarkably earth-like in appearance. The atmosphere was free of pollutants, most of the surface green with plant life, and blue with oceans. Even when they passed over the landscape below, they couldn't immediately spot any sign of civilization.

"Any buildings?" Baratta asked.

"According to sensors, the trees are part of the buildings. There are no artificial structures taller than the trees that surround them."

"The trees are massive, though. Look."

"These trees are all thousands of years old," Spock says, looking at censor data. "Few have ever been cut. They tower an average of a thousand feet high. There are others nearly two thousand feet tall."

The deeper they went the more they could see of the ground. Buildings had been woven around the trees. The branches often provided support for the architecture constructed to exist in harmony with nature. The ground was cast in shadow except for clearings that offered access to sunlight. A massive river cut a gouge in the ground that was miles wide, crossed by what looked like glass and metal bridges that gleamed in the sun.

"Spock, you will walk behind Baratta, who will walk behind me. Make no mistake about this mission. I'm their hostage. They claim I'm here for talks, but I'm really here as a bargaining chip should something go wrong. As your commanding officer, I'm ordering you to get it right. Don't fuck this up."

"Aye, Sir," Baratta and Spock chime in unison.

The shuttle doors opened and Number One stepped out first. There were five women and one man to greet the away team. The Sebennians were humanoid, as close to human as Una had ever seen of an alien species. The main differences were the delicate dots that lined their foreheads and curved behind their ears before meeting in a single line at the base of the throat and disappeared down the center of their chest. The dots, shaped like apple seeds, were different colors on different people. Black was the most common, though some were white, red, blue, or any other conceivable shade. The color of hair matched the color of the skin markings, though all of them had roughly the same golden skin tone.

Most of the women wore a uniform of earthy brown tunics over loose-fitting black trousers and knee high boots. The woman before her wears a dark green tunic over black trousers. The man in attendance wears a flowing blue robe that does nothing to hide the swell of his pregnant belly.

"Welcome to Sebenn," the foremost woman, wearing green, says. She surprises Number One by offering her hand for a shake. "I am Hirra of House Hei, Prime of the Diplomatic Corps. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Number One lifted her left hand in a fist that she laid over the right side of her chest before she opened her fist and laid her palm flat on her chest. It signaled her as a warrior on a mission of peace. Hirra's smile seemed genuine.

"A warrior, and a fellow diplomat, I see," she says. "Allow me to introduce my husband, Medde of House Hei."

"An honor, Madam," he said, bowing his head. Number One afforded him a brief glance before turning back to Hirra.

"This is the team that will locate and retrieve the missing shuttle and crew. Ensign Baratta, security specialist. She is well-versed in medicine as well and will be able to offer medial aid to the survivors of the crash. And Lieutenant Spock, a science officer aboard the Enterprise."

"I'm curious to know the male's purpose on this mission?"

"He will pilot the shuttle and assist Baratta in loading passengers inside for transport home."

Hirra seemed satisfied with that explanation and nods. "Ensign, I assure you that Commander One is in excellent hands and will receive the best treatment in her time with us."

"I take comfort in the knowledge," Baratta said. "Thank you."

"See you soon," Number One tells them. "Be safe and work quickly and efficiently."

Spock waited for Baratta to enter the shuttle first before stepping in behind her. After that, he lowered the shuttle doors and plotted the same course as the missing shuttle they now searched for. He caught sight of the commander one last time as she moved toward a towering wooden structure tucked among the trees, surrounded by armed guards and one pregnant man.

"A pregnant man," Baratta said, as though reading Spock's thoughts. "I never thought I'd see that in a humanoid species."

"They are, thus far, the only land dwelling mammalian species we've encountered in which the males bear the children."

The shuttle carrying Michael and the other Shenzhou crew flew a somewhat erratic path that concerned Spock. It suggested the shuttle had lost attitude control from a damaged nacelle. There were, as far as anyone knew, no distress signals other than an automated hail that sent the shuttles general location.

"This flight pattern suggests heavy damage to navigation," Spock said. "That's usually caused by phaser fire."

Baratta agreed. "This area of space is well traveled with Starfleet and Federation vessels. There haven't been any reports of piracy in a hundred years."

"Yet someone fired on a Starfleet shuttle," said Spock. "The transponder has just registered. It's weak. Possibly powered by a portable power cell."

Below, carved into the ground of a clearing like a desperate scratch, was a long path where the shuttle crashed. At the end of that open wound was the twisted remains of a class three shuttle that had left a trail of debris half a mile behind it. Spock's stomach clenched in cold dread. He knew Michael lived, but in what condition would they find her? What of the other three passengers?

"I don't see how anyone survived that," Baratta said.

Spock was inclined to agree.

* * *

**Michael**

Birds. A flock of them.

Pain. In her right side. Intense, hot, throbbing.

Water. Drops hit her face. Cold. Each drop a shard of ice that robbed her off precious body heat.

Michael Burnham came awake slowly, taking stock of her surroundings in increments, rather than allowing everything in at once, as she'd been taught in Vulcan. She lay in grass that smelled like grapes. It made her think of kudzu. She'd hated how invasive it had been on her grandmother's farm outside of Atlanta, Georgia. That was in the days before her granny passed. The only grandparent who'd lived to see her born. Her father's mother. Not long after that she lost her parents, too.

Michael attempted to sit up, only to realize she couldn't. There was a restraining field around her. She looked down and saw one other person with her. Yeoman Kerry. Blood poured down the side of his head, but it didn't stop him from tapping away on a padd.

"Yeoman?"

He looked over and sighed in relief. "Lieutenant, thank God. I was afraid I didn't apply the fuser in time. Be careful. You've lost a lot of blood, but your vitals are stable. The syntheglobin has replaced most of the blood you lost."

She tried to make sense of all the information he threw at her, but her aching head didn't want to process it.

"Slow down. What?"

"Don't you remember the shuttle crash?"

He released the restraining field. Michael looked down at the red line that represented the remnants of a wound. She remembered, vaguely, a piece of metal running through her side. It had been mostly a flesh wound, but serious, and painful. She also remembered the crash.

"A ship fired on us. A Sebennian ship. They chased us here. The defense grid almost fried us but it lowered at the last moment."

Kerry nodded. Sweat beaded on his coffee colored skin despite the cool weather. "Do you remember after?"

"We tried an emergency beam out. Only Sinat escaped."

"Except you, me, and Kak crashed."

Michael nodded, worry clawing at her. "Kak. Where is she?"

"Our restraining fields kept us in our seats but not hers. She got thrown."

"Her aquahaler? If it's disabled she'll smother."

"I looked for her after I stabilized you, Sir. I found nothing."

"Maybe she made it to water."

Kerry shrugged, looking helpless. "No way to know."

The shuttle remains lay thirty feet away, smoking and noxious. Judging from the dermaplast bandages on Kerry's left hand, he'd gone in to retrieve what he could before stabilizing her and getting a transponder signal firing, and looking for Kak.

"You've done excellent work, Yeoman. It'll be in my report. For now, we need to locate the others and get word to Starfleet about what's happened here. The Sebennians aren't known for welcoming off-worlders. Especially males."

"You sure you can walk, Commander?"

"You know what? We're officially off-duty. Call me Michael."

Kerry nodded and helped her up. Her side was sore but not debilitating. "You got it, Michael. Where do you think we should go first?"

"Any sort of signature that indicates where Kak could've gone? She's our top priority right now."

"I've done a search for life-signs and found nothing. I did find a stream nearby that runs out of a lake."

"Let's make for that. She'd try to get to water before anything else. Let's hope she made it."

They set off at a slow but steady pace with Michael leading the way since they had the only functioning phaser between them, as well as rank. The walk wasn't entirely unpleasant. The air was cool, if not a little more humid than she was accustomed to. The ground was fairly even, grassy, easy to traverse considering there were no trails. The land they traveled was in the clear, away from the trees that towered above them for thousands of feet into the air like leafy skyscrapers. They made her feel dwarfed, insignificant in their might and grandeur.

The way ahead brought them to the stream Kerry's tricorder had picked up, but there was no evidence Kak had been through the area. Michael knelt beside it and drank after receiving an all-clear from the tricorder.

"Delicious. Fresh," she said. Kerry drank and nodded in agreement.

"Maybe too fresh for Kak," he said, worried. "She needs some salinity in the water to breathe."

"We'll find her. We'll do what we can to help. You have a toolkit. I know how to repair her aquahaler."

They set off again, gathering darkness urging them to find a place they could make camp for the night, hopefully, with Kak, and later Sinat, joining them without injury. The ground under her feet grew stonier, so they moved to the shore which eventually gave way to a rocky beach that surrounded a massive, mist clouded lake.

"Temperature?" Michael asked.

"16.6 °C," he said. "A little nippy, especially if the wind picks up. Judging by the weather patterns, it'll drop down to about 10 °C tonight."

"We need to find a place to make a fire," Michael said. "That's a little too cool for what we have on."

"Agreed."

They started around the beach until the tree line came in. They searched for signs of life, but nothing registered on the tricorder. Mist shrouded the mountains that towered above them on three sides of the lake. It was moving in quick, cooling the air and bringing wind with it. From what Michael had learned of the planet, the people lived in harmony with nature. They had a deep and abiding love for trees and rarely cut them. When they did, it was only to build in such a way to blend in with the trees of their world, or to provide clearings for sunlight to get through when the clearings were needed but not naturally occurring.

"I'm getting something," Kerry said. "Kak's biosignature. She's in the water, about half a mile away. She's swimming."

Michael sighed with relief and took out her comm. "Burnham to Ensign Kak. Are you injured? We're half a mile east of your current location."

A type of song filtered through the communicator before being translated into speech. "I am alright for now. Difficulty breathing. My aquahaler is damaged. Salinity is too low. Feel slightly sick."

"Do you have your aquahaler with you? I may be able to repair it."

Kerry hurried ahead and found a metal headband with four prongs lying on the ground.

"Got it," he said.

"We found it. Kak, try to return to us."

"On my way."

"Burnham out."

She went to Kerry's side and took the toolkit out. She was relieved when she realized it wasn't damaged beyond repair.

"Looks like something is going to go our way," Kerry said. "I hate bad luck in an already bad situation."

"Don't we all?" Michael said, laughing.

Splashing water nearby alerted them to Kak's arrival. She stepped from the water, her uniform dripping wet. Her scales were a pretty blue-green shade with a bit of red and yellow around her gills and mouth. Her big black eyes appeared to blink rapidly as the nictitating membrane slid over them.

"I am so glad you found me," Kak said. "I was afraid I was the only survivor. I don't know where the shuttle is."

"We're going to be okay," Kerry said. "The transponder is sending out a signal, and no doubt the Sebennian government has notified Starfleet command to retrieve us."

"All fixed," Michael said, going over to hand the aquahaler to Kak. She slipped it over hear head where it bonded to her scales and began spraying her nose gills with each breath in, as well as her neck gills. She took several deep breaths before leaning over and vomiting onto the beach.

"You okay?" Michael asked, helping her up after.

"Just nauseous. Like you would be in a smoky room for a few hours."

"We need shelter," Michael said. "Food is a concern for tomorrow."

"I have a couple of ration bars," Kerry said. "I'll fill our flasks with water."

"I'll make a fire," Kak offered. "Though I could catch a couple of fish first if you like."

"Fish is better than ration bars," Kerry said hopefully. Michael gave her okay and then went to scout shelter and build a fire while Kak fished. In an hours' time, just as the sun set, they had a fire burning on a bed of heavy rocks taken from the beach, with fish roasting over it.

"I think I've figured out why we didn't detect Kak until we were practically upon her," Kerry said, as he fiddled with the tricorder. "The defense grid interferes with sensors. I think they may be purposefully limiting our depth of scan."

"If that's so," Michael said, "that means they know we're here, they're watching, and they're not doing a damn thing to help. In fact, they're interfering with our ability to find our people."

"How worried should we be?" Kak asked.

"I think cautious would be a better term," said Michael. "From what I know they aren't hostile. Just mistrustful."

"Depends on your gender, doesn't it?"

Michael was on her feet in seconds, phaser aimed at the stranger's voice. A Sebennian man emerged from around the tree they took shelter under, flanked by five more. All armed with various non-energy weapons. This man had two short swords, one in each hand. Another man whipped out a bola that gripped Michael's hand and jerked her forward. Rather than fall, she rolled into it, spun, and swept the feet of the man out from beneath him, but the phaser was gone.

Another man retrieved it and aimed it at Kak.

"Wait! We aren't hostile. We mean no harm!" Kerry said, moving in front of Kak, but she pulled him behind her, shielding him with her larger body. Her scales were tougher than his skin.

"A female defending a male?" asked the first man. "Of course you think he's defenseless, being a man."

"Don't confuse our culture with yours," Michael said. "We are neither matriarchal nor patriarchal. Gender is irrelevant."

"So we've heard, the leader said. "Douse the fire. Tie the others. You're coming with us."

* * *

**Number One**

The interior of the Embassy was a stunning display of craftsmanship in materials ranging from stone, to metal, and glass. The entry hall arose three stories with sweeping stone arches, towering stained glass windows, and a stone floor underfoot had been inlaid with obsidian designs of a quill and a sword crossing over a tree. Lifts made of glass carried people up and down on either side of the room. The uniforms were of various earth tones, brown, tan, rust red. Only Hirra wore green.

Una was led to a lift that carried her to the tenth floor. From there the security detail remained in the lift and was whisked away when the doors closed.

"I am going to place a great deal of trust in you, Commander One," Hirra said as they entered a lavishly appointed office. A receptionist with pink spots and hair sat at a desk that looked like a tree stump, and filled the room with a scent not much different from oak.

"Linn, I don't wish to be disturbed. The Queen, or Medde's physician, being the only exceptions. Understood?"

He bowed his head but didn't speak.

"Number One is my designation, and the name I go by on my ship. My given name is Una."

"Commander Una, then?"

"Or you could call me Una."

"We have records of several Federation species and have programmed a menu of food and drink native to our world that is safe for you to consume. We have food synthesizers that can create food from your world, or you may eat our dishes."

Una nods. "I'm always game to try new things. I'll eat local, if you don't mind."

Hirra's desk was in the same fashion as Linn's, only it had been lacquered and gleamed in the shadowed light from the windows. Una gazed out on the landscape, what she could see, to find a wooded city built into the trees. Footbridges offered access from one building to another. Small animals scurried among them without fear, going unmolested by the people they shared the trees with. Colorful banners fluttered through the branches of different trees.

"I have never seen such a world," Una said. "It's beautiful."

"We have regrettably limited information on other worlds but from what I've seen, yes, we are unique. Amma juice?"

"Yes, thank you."

"If it's too sweet I can dilute it. It isn't a test of your character, I assure you," Hirra said. "Not many Sebennians drink it straight."

Una smiled politely but knew a lie when she heard it. It was indeed a test. The amma juice was akin to syrup. Rather than force it down, she handed the glass back. "I prefer half strength."

Hirra diluted the drink with water and added ice. "I admire what you did. No false bravado. Straightforward honesty."

"It can be helpful in a diplomatic endeavor to be straightforward at times. Other times, half truth."

Hirra nods her agreement. "You will be quartered in the guest tree. There, with the yellow banner."

She pointed to a tree in the distance that sported yellow banners.

"You will be fitted with a transponder that will track your location at all times. Otherwise you may go wherever you like within this city, at your pleasure. Only restricted work areas will be off-limits."

"I hadn't anticipated being here long enough to require accommodation."

Hirra lifted one delicate shoulder. "It would seem there may be complications with retrieval."

"Such as?"

"From what I understand, the shuttle site is empty. We have reason to believe the survivors of the crash may have been taken in by a group of fanatical men who choose to live on the fringes of society."

Una let the smile slip from her face. "Taken in or kidnapped?"

"I suppose that depends on your point of view."

Una stood and leaned on the desk, putting her weight on her hands and giving Hirra a look devoid of humor or even a pretense of it. "Where are my people, Hirra?"

She leaned back, casual, sipping her drink, openly unconcerned with the welfare of Una's people. "We decline to get involved in the workings of the movement that calls itself Equilibrium. They're a bit too radial to allow access to mainstream media and society, and we are unwilling to execute citizens simply for campaigning for equal rights. We aren't barbarians, after all."

"So you just kick them out if they don't conform and tell them to make it on their own?"

Hirra's face hardened and she stood to lean on her desk, facing Una. "You would do well to watch the words that come from your lips next, Una. You are not Sebennian. Do not delude yourself into thinking you understand our culture because you can give a proper hello."

"I may not be intimately familiar with your culture, but I understand bigotry when I see it. Yours is gender based, and it is something my people have overcome."

"The women of your culture have given too much power to a gender that is ill equipped to handle it. It will be your undoing, not ours."

Una shook her head. "That's exactly the kind of drivel the men in our culture used to say about women. It wasn't until we overcame such backward thinking that we truly began to prosper and thrive as a people. Things like gender and sexuality don't determine strength of character, or morality. When we learned that women were equal to men, we did not fall. We became truly strong."

Hirra's eyes remained cold when she sat down, unmoved by Una's words. "You should visit the park. Rain will move in soon and I'm sure you'll want to enjoy the sunshine while you can. Linn will give you directions to your rooms."

Having been dismissed, Una left the office and got directions from Linn. She needed to contact her captain, and soon. Things just got very complicated indeed.

* * *

**Spock**

Nothing. The crash site was empty.

According to the shuttle sensor array, the crash survivors had vacated the premises at least two days previously. A full day before the Sebennians contacted Starfleet to notify them of the crash. Why they'd wait a full day to report unwanted off-worlders was beyond Spock's reason. It was illogical.

Michael's blood soaked the ground in quantities Spock found alarming. The emergency stores of syntheglobin had been depleted, likely meaning someone had administered it to replenish the blood she'd lost. That brought him some small comfort.

Back in the air now, Spock and Baratta followed the trail of a tricorder equipped with a program called Breadcrumb. It left a Starfleet signature that would degrade over a three day period. According to sensors, they'd passed through this area, next to the lake. They found the remains of a campfire and partially eaten fish caught from the lake. Torn ground suggested a struggle between two people. Spock looked at the boot imprint. It was Michael's shoe size.

His mind suddenly went to the image of Michael's bare feet bobbing rhythmically against his thighs, moving in time with his thrusts, his bare ass bouncing between her legs as sweat beaded on his back, and Michael's hands gripping his arms as she cried out from each thrust. He grunted from the effort of fucking her. Enjoyed every sound he forced from her mouth with a deep thrust.

"Lieutenant!"

He took in a sharp breath and looked away from the shoe print, pulled away from the memory. He'd lost control over himself. Lost focus so completely that he'd become unaware of his surroundings. His pulse was fast, mouth dry from breathing with it open.

"Ensign?" he looked up, disoriented.

"Are you all right, Sir? I spoke your name five times before you answered."

"Apologies, Ensign. Have you found something?"

"The trail picks back up. Shall we get back to the shuttle?"

"Yes. That would be a logical course of action."

They took to the shuttle again and flew between the trees since they were spaced far enough apart to allow it, even for a shuttle the size of a class three. The ground below suggested a group had departed the campsite. He doubted Michael had fought with her own people, so she had likely fought with a hostile native group.

Even as he worked, his mind wandered. He felt as though his blood were beginning to heat. His concentration was slipping, fast.

"Transponder signal has vanished," Baratta said, pointing out the obvious. "Guess we'll have to rely on spotty sensors to locate them."

She was saying something, but all he could think about was Michael. He needed her. Needed to be close to her. It was a need that went to his bones. Heated, primal.

"Sir?" Baratta asked.

Spock swallowed. "We cannot search more than three kilometers in any direction with any sort of reliability. We will search in expanding circles until we locate non-Sebennian life signs."

"Aye, Sir."

He could feel her eyes on him. Once, she sniffed the air. He thought she brushed his mind with her own for a brief moment. He wasn't sure. He wasn't sure of anything but the rapidity with which he was unraveling.

Spock set a search pattern into the shuttle computer and set autopilot. The day was drawing to a close, and both he and Baratta would need rest. Baratta offered to take first watch while he went to the shower cubicle in back.

"Privacy mode."

A moan of pain escaped him. He sat on the floor, knees to his chest in the cramped space. Sweat beaded his brow. Then, when he could hold off no longer, he returned to a memory from long ago. He unzipped his trousers as he did, took himself out and gripped himself tight.

* * *

He stands, silhouetted in Michael's bedroom door. She's ignored him since they shared their first kiss yesterday. Closed her mind to him. She's in bed, covers around her waist, hand under her as she buries her face in her pillow. He sees her look back, eyes black with lust, taking in his form in the doorway. He steps in and locks the door.

"You didn't lock me out," he says, advancing with slow steps. He hardens at her scent. "Do you want me to leave?"

There's a sticky wet sound as she removes her hand from her panties. He listens to her swallow. Almost moans when she watches him watch her kick the blanket down. She lifts her ass into the air, her thighs apart. There's a wet stain on her panties that draws a literal growl from him.

Spock moves forward desperate for her.

"Privacy mode," she says.

The windows darken. Spock kicks out of his shorts. He's painfully hard, not having allowed himself release from yesterday. He rips her panties away.

"Soundproofing!"

She barely manages the words before Spock takes her. He hopes the soundproofing set in and his father doesn't hear them both cry out. He wants to lunge forward, mindlessly fuck her, but he forces control. He doesn't want to hurt her, but gentle he is not. He pumps into her, feeling her body clutch him, pulse around him as she orgasms. He thrusts but a few times before he stiffens, pushing deep to come inside her. Being inside someone…It's a rush unlike anything he ever experienced by his own hand.

* * *

Spock found release, quickly, and leaned his forehead against the cool metal of the sonic shower. It automatically clicked on and whisked away his semen, and cleaned the sweat from his body. When it sensed he was clean, and the unit is sterile, it shut off. Spock was relieved that the act brought him clarity of mind, at least for awhile. But he knew Michael felt him. Felt what he had done to memories of her, and why.

He emerged from the shower, control restored. Baratta mercifully pretended she knew nothing of what he endured. He reclined his chair and closed his eyes to meditate, for the road ahead would get rocky. Not just for him, but for Michael. For whatever happened to him would happen to her.

* * *

**Michael**

The tricorder was smashed under Nebbe's boot. That wouldn't have been enough to destroy the transponder, but a phaser blast certainly was. He looked the weapon over in appreciation.

"The defense grid will disable this now that it's been fired," he said, tucking it into his belt. "I think I'll keep it for posterity."

Hours of walking had Michael's entire body weary. She took a seat against a rock and informed Nebbe she wouldn't move without a rest. He and the man named Cinn, the bola welder, looked at one another.

"Are the women of your world physically weaker than the men?"

"Physically? Yes," Michael said. "Why?"

"It's another thing we have in common," Cinn said, and tossed his white hair over his shoulder. "Just want to understand what's different between our people."

"Women on Earth were once treated as inferior," Kerry said.

"I would like to know what it's like to have the men be in charge," Cinn said. He looked at Michael and Kak with naked resentment. His white spots seemed to darken with his feelings.

"I prefer the way it is now," said Kerry. "Where gender doesn't determine one's worth."

"I don't believe it," Nebbe said. "A world like that can't be real."

"It is. We live it throughout our society."

"And your world, fish woman?" Cinn demanded.

Kak bristled, her gills flapping. "We are a largely single gender species. Males are born only one in 1.2 million surviving eggs. They are rare and therefore precious. They lack the ability to procreate so they never lay eggs."

"Men are precious?" Nebbe scoffs. "Liar."

"Why would I lie?"

"To curry favor with us," Cinn said. "It's a waste of your time. We know better than to trust the word of lying women."

"On your feet. You've stalled long enough." Nebbe ordered.

Michael groaned as she got up, feet and legs aching and on the verge of cramping, and forced herself to continue the climb. They were heading into the mountains, and the mist that shrouded them had blocked out the valley and lake below. She felt as though she were slowly ascending into the heavens, where there would be gods awaiting her rather than stars.

After a full day of walking they reached a community woven into the trees on a plateau. It was cold here, in the mist, and dark in the trees, even in the day. The settlement was called Sedda Seh, meaning Perpetual Night. Artificial torches burned to cast light, as did strings of lights hung among the branches. Despite the circumstances of her visit, Michael thought it was beautiful.

She didn't expect to see so many children, nor did she expect to see so many men walking about with bellies that had a distinct roundness that came with pregnancy. There were also women among them. Some were armed and stood guard. Others worked at cook fires and tended children.

"Does it shock you to see women cooking and running after children?" Nebbe asked Michael.

"Why would it?" she asked.

He looked at her so long and hard she was sure she could feel his gaze in her mind. Was he a telepath?

"You really are unfazed, aren't you?"

"I keep telling you that we're not held back by gender disparity. The Federation won't allow any world that hasn't solved the plagues of discrimination into our ranks."

"Sitta."

A woman with the same black spotting and black hair and Nebbe approached, wiping her hands on an apron. She kissed Nebbe on the cheek with a tenderness that left no doubt what sort of relationship she they shared.

"My love?"

"Take these people to the holding trees. They are to be put in separate cells."

"Do you have my ship mate?" Michael asked. "I'm his commanding officer. I'm responsible for him."

"He's well. He was surrounded by savvers when I found him and brought him here. Look, Nebbe can be tough but he's fair. Never cruel. You and your people will be treated well."

"We have people who will come looking for us," Michael told her.

Sitta nodded and motioned for Michael to enter her cell. "We're counting on it."

After Sitta left, Michael took a close look at her surroundings. The door of the cell, made of wooden bars as hard as iron, clicked shut behind her, locking her in. She looked around her cell to find she had a toilet, a bed that was unexpectedly soft, blankets, pillows, and a table. Strings of lights illuminated the ceiling like stars. She also had quite a view of the mist-shrouded mountains beyond a few bridges that led to domiciles carved into the trees.

"If you get cold," Cinn said, "you can lower your blinds. It'll keep the wind off you."

"I'll remember that."

"Can't say thank you? Typical woman."

"I'm supposed to thank my captors?"

He shakes his head. "I could put you in the stocks for the night. Let you see how good you've got it now."

"Point taken. Thank you."

She accepted a tray loaded with vegetables native to the planet, and a tender fried meat that tasted a little like chicken livers. She filled her belly with food and fresh water, and then settled down with her blinds closed to keep out the wind. She'd been a prisoner before, in other situations, and Cinn had been right. She did have it good for a captive.

Exhausted, Michael settled under her blankets and tried to give in to the need for sleep. As she sank deeper into the blankets she was saddened for her thoughts turn to her foster brother, and lover, Spock.

* * *

The argument between them is one of the most harmless they'd ever had. Spock stands at the window of her quarters in the Vulcan Science Academy, looking out over miles of arid sandy landscape. Dust kicks up in tiny eddies from winds that scour the ground.

"To mark the passing of the years of one's life by eating a sugar filled confection with no nutritional value is illogical and a waste of time best spent in the pursuit of knowledge and improving one's grades."

"It's tradition, Spock, and my grades are flawless. It symbolizes how precious time is in a finite existence. Especially to us humans who aren't as long-lived as Vulcans. Besides, who doesn't like an excuse to eat cake?"

"Me."

Michael rolls her eyes.

"The purpose of setting it on fire first?" he asks, with as much sarcasm as he dares and still hopes to maintain a veneer of indifference.

"You know damn well why candles are lit. We're going to mother's birthday party."

"You will attend and send my regards."

"We're also staying for Christmas, since it's the day after."

"Another illogical human holiday with illogical traditions. Such as kissing someone because you stand beneath an obligate parasitic plant."

"You're beginning to annoy me, Spock. I don't dismiss Avilah'tihar, do I?"

If Spock could blush any harder he'd faint, Michael is certain of it.

"That holiday is…it is hardly…Vulcans only celebrate…"

She cocks a brow and allows him to stumble over his words.

"An orgy?"she supplies

He shakes his head. "Hardly."

"Vulcan youths who have yet to enter their first pon farr gather in the desert to have mind sex with as many strangers as possible while attempting to feign complete emotional control? Sounds like an orgy to me."

"You seem upset that you weren't invited."

"I'm upset you went without me."

"I could not take my sister to such a ritual. That is what you dictated we are to be, and nothing more."

"You know I was right. You saw the look in Sarek's eyes when he suspected, even for a moment, we were…"

"Fucking?" Spock says. "To use human vernacular."

"Yes."

"Every opportunity that came along."

Michael swallows. Her mouth is going dry. "Spock. The point is he was enraged. Disgusted. I had to really put on a performance to convince him he was wrong."

"Father is often wrong. That shouldn't dictate our lives. Speak clearly. What are you asking of me, Michael?"

"Show me what Avilah'tihar is like. I didn't get to go, after all."

He takes a deep breath. "I will trust you with something I haven't shared with anyone else."

"Yes?"

"Avilah'tihar is to be observed but once in a Vulcan's life before the first pon farr. However, I am part of a group that wishes to further explore emotion and passion. We meet monthly to engage in the tihar. If anyone was to discover us—"

"It would bring shame on your families. And Sarek's house has suffered enough of that already. It's ok, Brother. I understand why I can't come."

"Quite the opposite. We have considered bringing someone in who is comfortable expressing emotion. A human would be the perfect addition to our group."

Michael doesn't bother to hide her smile. "When do we meet next?"

"If you are accepted, tonight. I will contact the others and ask to bring you in."

The news of Michael's acceptance thrills her and terrifies her in equal measure. She arrives with Spock at 20:30 in the home of a woman named T'Par and dresses in a white robe, and nothing else. Michael has only ever thought of T'Par as a machine. She's known as the most emotionless of all students at the Academy. She's also one of a handful of students to have her own house off campus.

The group Spock's joined is twenty strong, yet she's never heard of it. Leave it to Vulcans to have a secret swingers group and manage to successfully keep it secret.

Vulcans have a natural scent that reminds Michael of sand and soil. Spock is different. He has have that smell, but he also has another quality. Something earthier, muskier…more human. Perhaps Vulcans find his unique scent appealing, as well as his human blood, and had allowed him to join for that. Or perhaps T'Par, like Michael, could simply appreciate Spock's considerable male beauty. Regardless of why, this was one group that accepts him, completely.

"You have elected to include your sister," said Sinat. He looks Michael over with the most open expression of interest she's ever seen in a full-blooded Vulcan. "Is it common to engage in passion with siblings on Earth?"

"Or are you drawn by the taboo?" T'Par asked.

"We do not regard one another as family," Spock explains. "That perception is by others, and is impossible to dispel."

T'Par nods at a man who hits a ritual gong. The others stand and pull off their robes, revealing naked bodies. It's now that it hits Michael what Spock has been doing. Getting naked and engaging in telepathic sex.

Jealousy floods her. How many men and women had known that side of him? A side that had always been hers alone.

The others in the room watch Spock and Michael avoid looking at one another. They ignore her jealous glare, and Spock's attempt to not openly enjoy it. Spock moves first and pulls off his robe, letting it fall at a pile at his feet. Finally his eyes meet hers, and it's like a bolt of lightning through her. Michael all but rips her robe off as heat pools low in her belly. She can feel his excitement, and see it in the burgeoning erection that began to raise his cock in response to her. The truth is, this is a chance to have him again, without fear of getting caught by their parents.

Soon the others in the room move, circling one another in a graceful dance, fingertips brushing over flesh. Michael feels Sinat's touch, feels his desire to share his emotions, and his desire to fuck her. For a moment it was like he was inside her, thrusting. Then he was gone, replaced by one stranger after another. A man's cock one second, a woman's mouth or fingers the next, all in her mind, yet so real it feels like it's happening to her body. Everyone but Spock touches and shares themselves with her.

Mostly it's pleasurable, but at times it's invasive, nearly humiliating, almost like gang rape. Overwhelming. Her senses scream until her body is so sensitive every graze of fingers is agony. She stumbles away, her body slick with sweat, breath labored, her mind lost in a group mentality, crying for freedom.

Then he's there. Spock. He lifts her from the ground and carries her to the lanai, and the warm dry desert air where her mind and body find solitude. Inside, Michael watches the others move around one another in a frenzy, gasping, moaning, sweating, laughing, crying, screaming. Emotions run high until men come, their ejaculate shooting out to coat the others. Women fall to the ground, writhing in pleasure, some with explosive orgasms as well.

"Michael?"

She grips Spock's face, kisses him, her body humming with the need for release. She can sense his need as well. Acting on instinct, Michael sinks to her knees in front of Spock and takes him into her mouth. He cries out at the feel of her and almost immediately loses control. He empties himself into her mouth with a strangled sob, his head thrown back. She swallows most of him, but stands and kisses him again, making him taste himself on her tongue. He moans again and dipped a hand between her legs, his fingers moving inside, deep, and the tight knot of tension within releases on the most powerful orgasm she's ever known. Spock lifts his fingers to his mouth and licks before kissing her again, mingling their tastes together. When they pull back it's to a sea of sweaty, flushed, fascinated Vulcan faces showing more emotion than she'd ever seen.

It's a terrifying sight.

* * *

Michael pulled away from the memory with the unshakable feeling that Spock was close by, searching for her, and that the bond he'd initiated long ago was growing in strength. She could sense him, sense his lusts because she shared them. The fact that his presence was felt so strongly could only mean one thing: The blood fever was coming, and it was as deadly to her as it was to him if they couldn't resolve it together.

* * *

**Spock**

The shuttle set down two hours before dawn when sensors located human life signs. Baratta had gotten roughly five hours of sleep, more than enough for a Tennian to function, when Spock roused her from sleep.

"They appear to be in one of the tree villages," Baratta said. "Surrounded by roughly two hundred Sebennians. I'm reading two humans, one Aquarianite, and one Vulcan male."

Spock felt a stab of jealousy at hearing of a Vulcan male in close proximity to Michael. It was completely irrational. Illogical. While he showed no outward signs of his emotions, he couldn't stop himself from worrying at how quickly his condition had developed. He'd spent his sleep dreaming about sex and violence, alternating between fighting with Michael, and fucking her.

"Lieutenant, if I may state an observation?" Baratta said.

"Please."

"You seem distracted. I understand you have family in this situation, and you are half-human, but you seem unduly preoccupied with Commander Burnham."

"I assure you I am not. I am merely attempting to be thorough."

But the jaw muscles working to hold back a verbal outburst didn't go unnoticed by Baratta. She simply looked back to her instrument panel and nodded.

"Of course, Sir. However, I trust that if there is anything that I should be aware of, any…medical issues…you will bring them to my attention to avoid compromising our mission?"

"I would do nothing less."

Satisfied with his answer, his lie, Baratta put on hiking gear, and Spock did the same. They loaded backpacks with supplies, most of them medical, and stepped from the warm comfort of the shuttle and into the misty cool of the mountains. They'd landed a mile from the community but they barely had time to lock the shuttle doors before they were accosted by five armed men.

"I am Ensign Baratta of the USS Enterprise," she said, holding her hands up to show they were empty. "We come on a peaceful mission to locate our people. We just want to retrieve them and return to our ship."

"Who is their captain?"

The man in front had white spots and hair, and a hard face.

"Their captain is Philippa Georgiou," Baratta answered. "She is currently on a mission of mercy and could not come herself."

"I am Cinn," he said. "Your people keep speaking of equality between men and women, yet the leader of the shuttle group we have is female. The officer who commands you, currently residing at the Diplomatic Embassy is female. Their captain Georgiou is female, and now I see you speaking in a position of authority over him."

"I am Spock. I hold the rank of lieutenant, above this woman. I allow her to speak for me because we had the understanding that is the way of your people. Baratta and I serve aboard the Enterprise, Captained by a man, Christopher Pike."

"Have you taken our people in to offer shelter?" Baratta asked. "Or are they captive?"

"Captive. As you are now. Seize their weapons."

Baratta leveled her phaser at Cinn and pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. He grinned.

"The security grid over this planet has learned your weapons signature and disabled it. Still, I'd prefer to have them for myself. Just in case"

"I don't have to have a phaser to defend against you," Baratta said. She took a defensive crouch but Spock raised a hand to signal her to stand down. Regardless of how he reached Michael, as welcome guest or captive, these people would take him to her.

"Stand down, Ensign."

"Sir?"

"Stand down. Hand over our phasers. We will go willingly."

"Aye, Sir."

When Baratta complied, Cinn looked at Spock with respect. "A wise decision. Follow us."

The terrain was uneven on the steep incline that led them higher in elevation. Spock used the need for cautious steps to concentrate on something besides his own wandering thoughts and base desires. Even the need to keep from slipping and plunging to certain death into a ravine didn't completely keep him from sensing Michael. Her presence, once distant and cloudy, grew ever closer and grew in intensity until it felt as though he could reach out and physically touch her.

His eyes wandered to the tree city that towered above them when the ground leveled out. The first fat drops of rain fell, splashing his face and dropping the temperature until he could see each exhale of his breath.

"Michael… I must see her."

"What is she to you? A superior officer?" Cinn asked.

"I must…"

"You will meet with Nebbe first. He is-"

"No!"

Spock rounded on Cinn, hand raised to strike, before he could reclaim control. Baratta looked at Spock with knowing that enraged him. If she forgot that his condition was his secret to keep he'd remind her with a hand to the throat.

"Your woman, then," Cinn said, smirking. "We've got his woman!"

They burst into sycophantic laughter. Spock found it anything but funny. Nobody was supposed to know the truth. Everyone was supposed to think they were siblings with a love free of anything as impure and improper as lust.

"My sister," he choked out.

There was naked skepticism on Cinn's face. A new man emerged from a tree and motioned them forward. Tall, powerfully built, black markings and hair.

"Nebbe," said Cinn. "The people you were waiting for. This one here has a temper and says the leader is his sister. Apparently they mate with their sisters on his planet."

Spock felt his fists clench. He was losing control too soon. He wasn't even due for pon farr for another two years. Why he was so early, and why he had so little control, escaped him. Spock lifted his face to the trees. On the way in the cold of each drop had helped him to concentrate, but the thick canopy of leaves overhead now blocked out the rain.

A woman that accompanied Nebbe looked Spock over with a critical eye, and then whispered something to him. Nebbe dismissed Cinn and the guard and motioned for Spock and Baratta to follow him.

"I am Nebbe, leader of Sedda Seh. I have waited for your arrival."

"I must speak with Michael Burnham. Now."

Keep control. Keep control.

"You will, once we have discussed the very reason your people were brought here. You see, we are part of a movement called—"

It was useless. Michael was so close he could almost smell her. There was no way he could keep holding back. Spock felt all control slip, like a panicked fish through his fingers, struggling to return to where it could thrive.

"I don't give a fuck about your movement! Take me to her!"

He lunged at Nebbe, striking him so hard in the chest the man's eyes widened in painful shock as he staggered back. Guards rushed Spock, but he deftly dodged out of their way, ducking and juking until he reached a bridge and he began to climb. In his single-minded focus to reach Michael, like a salmon swimming upstream to spawn, he lost sight of the warriors hiding in the trees. A woman leapt into his path, kicking him directly in the chest and sending him falling to his back.

"Spock!"

There she was, feet away from him, behind a barred door. Caged. Her eyes bright with the same blood fever that afflicted him. Her voice transported him to a moment years past.

* * *

"Spock!"

Michael atop him, her legs stretched wide in an effort to straddle his powerfully built thighs. He watched as his length disappeared into her inch by inch as she took him in. Their first time after the orgy at T'Par's. They were finally alone and could enjoy being with one another without an audience of voyeurs taking pleasure in their joining. He looked at the sweat slicking her skin as she rode him, so tight and wet around his cock.

"Oh, Michael," he moaned, his deep voice barely above a whisper. He pinched a taut nipple and was rewarded with a gasp, and a plea for more.

* * *

"Michael!"

He reached for her, only to be shoved by a guard to the ground below. He flipped mid-air as he fell and landed on his feet. Baratta, Nebbe, and the woman, rush toward him.

"Sir?" Baratta asked.

"Take him!" Nebbe ordered.

"I don't think he's in control of himself."

"Not now, Sitta!"

"Do not presume to raise your voice at me! I am your mate, not your slave!"

He closed his eyes, rubbed at his chest where Spock had lashed out, and nodded. "Of course, my love. Apologies."

"Something is happening to him and the other captives. I am a healer. I need to examine them. They won't be any help to us if they're sick, or dead."

Nebbe looked ready to fight, something Spock welcomed. Yes, fight. Fight like animals or die. Or unleash him on Michael so he could take what he needed, and she in turn.

Baratta, Spock noticed, had a gleam in her eyes that had not been there before. A gleam very much like the blood fever he now endured. Something was happening to the captives. But what? Tennians had something akin to a pon farr, though it happened once a year rather than every seven years, and it didn't pose a physical risk to life like it did in Vulcans. Like humans, and many other species, they engaged in sex for pleasure as well as procreation.

"You feel it?" Spock asked her.

Baratta nodded. "The ponn'reh. The mating call. I'm not due for another seven months. What's triggering it?"

Spock moaned in pain. Michael was so close, yet she may as well be a million light years away for they were separated by bars and guards. He heard her moan with him, a mirror of his inner turmoil.

I'm sorry I did this to you, he whispered, with sorrow and remorse, through their bond.

I wanted it then and I want it now. I just don't want our parents to know, she answered.

Irrational anger overcame Spock. Why are you so obsessed with what people think? That's why you pulled away the last time!

"Take this man to my lab," Sitta ordered, unaware of the telepathic conversation she interrupted.

Several men descended on Spock and pulled him away as he screamed in rage and cursed her. They both entertained violent fantasies of tearing into one another as the blood fever consumed them.

* * *

**Number One**

Her period had started.

Una wouldn't be concerned with it if her cycle wasn't as regular as clockwork. Between the 5th and the 9th she started, on different days in that window of time, and bled for three days. No less, very rarely more. The longest she'd ever had was 5 days.

Her reliable-as-a-clock period had started this month on the 6th and ended on the 9th. Now, on the Earth Standard Calendar that she followed, it was the 18th. She should not be spotting. Her hormones shouldn't induce such incredibly powerful mood swings, and make her awaken in the night clutching her sheets and moaning from a vivid dream of Christopher Pike between her thighs, fucking her to orgasm that chased her to the waking world. Menopause was still 30 years into her future, but if she was changing early, then perhaps she should get a physical when she returned to the ship.

Spock and Baratta had not reported in since telling her they'd started a search pattern and were going to take turns sleeping in shifts for the night. One night on the planet was one night more than they'd anticipated. Come in, grab their people, get out—that was the mission.

She went to the wall screen and called the Enterprise. It was early but she knew her captain would be awake.

He answered on the second tone, his eyes bleary with sleep, his hair tousled. A moan escaped her as she imagined gripping a handful of that hair and holding on as he rode her.

"I thought you'd be awake. I'm sorry."

"It's 06:30. I should've been up 45 minutes ago. You did me a favor, Una. Are you all right? You sound like you're in pain."

"I'm fine except for…it's nothing."

"You felt the need to mention it, that makes it something."

She explained the change in her cycle, embarrassed that she felt awkward in the face of his calm about a perfectly normal biological function.

"We'll have Phil look you over when you return. Just to be safe. News on the search?"

"Not since last night. Spock and Baratta are due to report in at 0700. I can call now if you want."

"No, let them work."

She looked at her captain. Her friend. She'd entertained fantasies before, but she's never had such an overwhelming need to act on them.

"You're so good-looking, you know that, Chris? Sit back so I can see you without your shirt."

Pike snorted with laughter, his eyes twinkling until he realized Una was serious.

"Are you flirting with me?"

She'd been given a nightgown that was more than functional. It was beautiful. Blue swirled with green and hung off one shoulder. It just wasn't sheer enough for her liking. She zoomed out on the camera and sat back to cross her legs. The material fell away to her thighs. Christopher visibly swallowed.

"Would it be so terrible if I did?"

"Jesus, Una. This is highly irregular. It's unlike you."

Indeed it was unlike her.

"I'm a very passionate woman. If only you were here for me to show you. We could join our bodies. I want you inside me right now."

Pike didn't answer. Couldn't answer. All traces of sleep were gone from his face now. He looked like he considered shuttling down. She watched him rub his face.

"Una…something seems off about you. Are you alright?"

The realization of what she'd just done was like a splash of cold water to her face. She sat up straight and flushed under her captain's intense gaze. Some was concern. Some was…something else.

"Apologies, Captain. I don't know what came over me. It won't happen again. If you'll excuse me."

He opened his mouth to speak, and though it was against protocol, and decency, to hang up on a superior officer, she did just that and hurried to get dressed, her face burning with embarrassment. She'd been aroused while on her period before but she'd never lost control enough to actually cross the line with her captain. Or any man, for that matter.

0700 came and went without word from Spock and Baratta. Her hails went unanswered. Back in uniform now, Una got up and decided it was time Hirra of House Hei gave her some goddamn answers.

She opened the door of her suite and ran face first into Linn, Hirra's personal assistant, his hand outstretched to tap the bell. She took in the sight of his pink hair and spots, thinking the colors somehow suited his big square jaw and strong chin, rather than clashed with them. The dark blue tunic he wore was complimentary to his hair and spotting. And he smelled incredible. Like musk a light but fresh sweat, and fresh air, and the oak wood scent that always perfumed the air.

All thoughts of Hirra, her captain, her lost Starfleet comrades, and duty went forgotten.

"Commander?" Linn said. "Would you like me to escort you to the welcoming brunch? It's quite hot out. You may want to use a parasol since we'll be in the sun quite a bit today."

Once again, Una was overwhelmed with lust. She was blinded with the need for penetration. "All I'd like is for you to get out of these clothes."

His eyes widened when she latched into his robes and yanked him into her suite, pressing her mouth to his. He tried to keep to his feet but, caught off balance, he fell atop her on the floor, and the doors hissed shut behind them.

"Are you all right, Commander?"

"Call me Una," she said, wrapping her legs around him and wantonly grinding against him before flipping him into his back. "You're a big boy, aren't you?"

He stumbled over his words. "Um…I-I-I am the same size as the average Sebennian male, Commander."

Despite her state of arousal, she immediately noted that something was off. He did nothing to protest her advances, or discourage her, but he also didn't attempt to touch her, or move in rhythm with her rolling, grinding hips. He just looked at the wall before closing his eyes and laid there, letting her do what she wanted.

"What's wrong? Aren't I pretty enough for you?"

"You're beautiful, Commander."

His lack of enthusiasm cooled the lust in her loins with stunning rapidity.

"Look at me."

He opened his eyes and looked up at her. "Shall we move to your bed? Or do you like the floor?"

"What do you want?" she asked.

"I'm sorry?"

"What do you want?"

"I want to please you, of course."

Whatever had possessed Una to behave as she did passed. Horrified by her behavior, she climbed off Linn and helped him to his feet.

"I'm so sorry," she said, stepping away from him. "I honestly don't know what came over me just now."

A look of pure panic claimed Linn's handsome features.

"Commander, I beg you, give me another chance to please you. Here, let me help you out of your uniform. I will carry you to bed and fulfill your every desire."

He reached for her but she stepped back. "No. Stop."

He paled to the point his spots had almost no color. Tears moistened his eyes as he struggled to swallow.

"I have displeased you, I see. I will own up to my failure with Prime Hirra when she comes to chastise me. I won't contradict whatever you report, of course."

"Wait, what? Why would you be chastised?"

"You know why," he said, hanging his head. His words were tinged with bitterness he couldn't conceal. "Please don't toy with me. I'm sure I'll lose my place, be demoted as you wish."

The look of misery and impotent anger on his face was heartbreaking. He crossed his arms as though to hide shame. Despite his size, Linn suddenly looked small, vulnerable.

"Are you saying that if you refuse a woman's advances you'll lose your job? Or be dressed down?"

He looked up at her, caught the look of confusion and upset on her face and let his arms fall to his side.

"I forget you're not from our world. Chastisement isn't just verbal. I'd be flogged in front of the other assistants, made an example of what happens to men who forget their place. Prime Hirra will be especially upset. On one hand I'm expected to please. On the other I'm her current favorite 'distraction'."

"She uses you in that manner?"

"She made me her assistant for more than scheduling her meetings and getting her amma juice."

Una swallowed, hard. "I think I might be sick."

She felt her stomach roll and fought to keep from dry heaving. He reached for her, hesitant, unsure if she wanted him to touch her or not. He decided helping her to the couch was best. Overcome with guilt, unable to control her emotions, Una began to cry, and she wasn't a woman to shed tears easily. This only managed to alarm Linn.

"I assaulted you," she said. "I'm so ashamed. I know you don't owe me anything, but please, forgive me."

"I…what?"

She looked into his eyes, saw that confusion, and a little wonder, had replaced his fears. He swallowed.

"Of course I will report my appalling behavior to Captain Pike in my report. I'll submit myself for disciplinary action."

He searched her face for any hint of falsehood, or malice.

"She would punish you?"

"He would, and rightly so."

"He? Commander, I've never…never heard those words from a woman before," he said. "I've never met any woman like you before. I don't want you to be punished. Let us keep this between us."

"I'm sorry you've been so horribly misused," Una said. "Men shouldn't be the playthings of women. You shouldn't be made to feel as though you're inferior. You're not. Gender doesn't determine worth. I wish your people understood that."

"I would give anything to be able to live on a world with women like you," he said, looking at her in wide-eyed wonder.

The doors to the suite opened with a quiet hiss. Hirra's husband, Medde, entered the room uninvited, one hand held protectively over his greatly swollen belly. Three women, armed, entered behind him.

"Quite an interesting philosophy you have, Commander. Some, more than not, on Sebenn, would even say it's dangerous. Guards. Seize them."

* * *

**Spock**

Meditation helped Spock control his emotions, his urges, the way a bandage could stem the flow of blood from a dagger wound. He had just enough control to shut Michael out and no more. The need for release, whether through violence or fucking, was more than he could rein in. He would not fuck anyone except his mate, but he would inflict pain on anyone within reach.

"It's as I thought," Sitta said. Her eyes were glued to a screen giving readouts from blood work and scans he'd submitted to, albeit unwillingly.

"What's wrong with him?" Nebbe asked. A dark bruise had formed on his chest and his eyes regarded Spock without pity.

"The Spawning has taken him."

"And made him violent?"

"He is not of this world, Husband. His natural reaction to the Spawning has been a severe chemical imbalance in the brain known as the pon farr to his people. There's another man, a Vulcan, also going through it. However…it's strange. The human woman has the same imbalance."

"So humans have the pon farr too?" Nebbe asked.

"She is bonded to me, and I her!" Spock ground out the words as he struggled to bring the rage under control. It had been over two hours since his arrival. How much longer would they keep Michael from him?

"It's a bond of the mind and body, as far as I can tell," Sitta said. "The thing is I am concerned for their safety. If they don't receive treatment this will kill them. At best, drive them mad. The woman, Michael, most certainly won't survive."

"What sort of treatment?" Nebbe asked.

Sitta looked at Spock. "Treatment would be to let nature prevail. Put him and his mate together."

"Wouldn't it be dangerous for the woman? Look what he did to me."

"It's an acceptable risk. Husband, we cannot negotiate with the Federation if we allow two of theirs to die in our custody."

Nebbe sighed. "Then bring the woman to him."

Spock sank to the floor in pure relief and gratitude. He pressed his hands to the cool wood of the floor and concentrated on the texture of the wood grain. The cool that warmed as it absorbed the heat from his palm. He didn't know how long he remained that way before the doors opened and they brought Michael in.

"Spock," she said, her eyes bright with something like madness. Her suffering was his fault, and he felt the guilt of it weigh him down.

* * *

It isn't enough to come inside her. Spock rolls his hips with Michael, looks up at her as she throws her head back and moans. He empties himself into her, and as he does he grips her face, latches onto her, beggs her to accept him, love him…and she does. Her body clenches him tight as their minds join in a bond deeper than either of them thought possible.

* * *

"My love," he said. He didn't care if the guards watched, though they didn't. He had to have her. They pulled the doors closed behind them and locked it tight.

"Spock, it is I," Michael said, reciting the ancient ceremonial marriage greeting.

"Michael," he says. "Parted from me and never parted. Never and always touching and touched."

The words bring calm, and the secure knowledge that his pain, their pain, was almost over.

"Spock. Parted from me and never parted. Never and always touching and touched."

Their uniforms hung from their bodies in ruins as they tore at them to be free of the restrictive material. Spock picked her up, felt her wrap her legs around him, and moaned when he sank into her once she was on the narrow cot provided. Being inside her was like coming home. His hand sought out her face, caught hold, and the melding of their minds was a soothing balm on the raw pain of the pon farr.

Even as his mind entered hers, so did his body. He had only ever been with her in the physical act of sex but he could imagine no other ever replacing her. He sighed her name, seated inside her to his balls, and it was like dying and going to heaven. She was a perfect fit, snug but open to him, and so wet it ripped a moan from him when he began to move.

* * *

**Michae**

He had invaded her completely.

Michael was no longer alone in her body. Not mentally, not physically. She now shared herself with a man who'd been everything to her at some point. Adopted brother, enemy, lover. He had loved her, hated her, loved her again, and would likely hate again, and she the same.

The gentleness in the way he took her surprised her now. Given the madness that had gripped them both she expected as much violence in the act of sex as love. There was no violence. There was only him. The real him, not the robotic façade he presented to everyone he met. Spock was full of feeling but he rarely hid it from her.

He whispered her name as his thrusts picked up speed. The slap of flesh became easier to hear past the melding of their minds, as did the plaintive moans that slipped past his lips every time he entered her.

"Michael…I love you, more than I love my next heartbeat. I am yours as you are mine."

The marriage vows he'd communicated to her when they bonded. He'd thought them before. He whispered them now. She licked a salty drop of sweat from his brow and gripped his ass, needing him to change angles, to go deeper. He adjusted her and pushed deep, but stopped to catch his breath and withhold release.

"I love you Spock, more than I love my next breath. I am yours as you are mine."

Sensing what her body needed he grazed his teeth against her neck before he moved again, thrusting deep and hard inside her. One thrust, two, again and again, stroking that sweet spot deep inside with his hardness. Never fast. Just methodical. Steady. Thrust. Stop. Thrust. Deeper. His hand on her left hip. His weight on her right thigh. She cried out every time. The tension grew. Tighter. Tighter. Teasing her. Getting her there slowly.

"Please…" she moaned.

He moved the way she needed. His left hand gripping her hair as he fucked her properly now. She cried with every stroke. He whimpered, as a wounded animal, riding her with everything he had until the tension inside her uncoiled in a rush of wet heat.

* * *

He softened inside her and slipped out.

The blood fever was gone. Fully resolved in the act of the meld and their climax. He'd fallen asleep. His head lay on her naked breasts, skin hot the way all Vulcans were. She itched from the drying sweat on her body. His beard stubble had burned her chin, and now scratched her chest. She stroked his messy hair and kissed his head. He breathed in, sighed, and slipped deeper into sleep. She sensed he felt safe. Contented. Loved. All because he was in her arms. Just like when he was a child and she would hold him after a nightmare.

Her leg went numb. She didn't care but Spock sensed it and moved so she could get comfortable. She didn't try to intuit his dreams, though he would've shared. Even subconsciously he would deny her no part of him. She breathed him in. Sand, soil, air, sweat. His weight was comforting. The feel of his body against hers was comforting.

The doors to the lab suddenly flew open. Spock came awake and pulled off his tunic to cover her, uncaring of his own nakedness. Nebbe entered and threw two bundles of clothes at Spock.

"You two finally done?"

Spock side eyed him but said nothing.

"Get dressed. We've got business to conduct."

Michael accepted the clothes most commonly worn by the women, she'd noticed. Lose fitting black trousers, loose tunic, this one crimson, and boots. Spock had the long robe-like top that hung mid-thigh, dark blue, tight fitting black trousers and boots, like men normally wore. He watched her as they dressed.

"You are well?" Spock asked. "I didn't hurt you?"

She nodded at him and was rewarded when he smiled at her. God, did she love it when he smiled. It was a treasure for its rarity, and she never took one for granted.

"The beard stubble is sexy," she teased.

He claimed her mouth in a passionate kiss that ended as abruptly as it started, but was no less erotic, arousing.

"Stop," she said. "I'll want you again and I don't think they'll give us the time to indulge."

She could feel his desire as easily as he could feel hers.

"Perhaps they will allow us to share a cell," he said. "Better to be imprisoned with you than free without you."

"Come, now!" Nebbe was impatient.

They followed him from the lab and into the cover of the trees. Outside the layered canopy of foliage above, Michael could see it was daylight. Probably high noon.

"The other Vulcan escaped," he said. "Sitta worries for his state of mind. She tried to pair him with one of our women, to help him through the pon farr sickness, but he refused. He said he would only accept a Vulcan."

"Spock, you should know, it's Sinat."

He'd regained control of himself, but she recognized the slight widening of his eyes as surprise.

"I have not seen him since our Academy days."

"He's been aboard the Shenzhou for a year."

"You were uncomfortable…you are uncomfortable. He unsettles you," Spock said, reading her.

"He proposed a sexual relationship. I declined." She hurried to squeeze his hand when he felt anger and jealousy. "It doesn't matter if another man wants me. I don't want him. I don't want anyone."

"It still…bothers me."

"That's because you can't control others when it comes to me. Don't be so insecure."

"Sitta wishes you to recover him, Vulcan," Nebbe said. "It will only bring him harm to remain in the wilderness."

"Sinat is a Vulcan male in the midst of the blood fever," said Spock. "The closest thing he has to a Vulcan is the Tennian female, Baratta. She, too, is in a similar condition. He will come for her. I say we use her as bait."

"Get her, Cinn," Nebbe ordered. His second in command nodded and ascended a ladder leading into the trees to the holding cells. "You, Michael, will return to your cell until this business is sorted out."

Michael wasn't prepared for Baratta's state, nor was Spock, judging by the reaction she sensed. She came down the ladder as Michael ascended, pale and covered in sweat. She barely clung to consciousness. When she reached Spock, she collapsed.

"She needs a meld, or to do battle," said Spock.

"Neither," Baratta said. "I will meditate. I will overcome, or I will die. On my terms. But…I will remain for Sinat."

"You people have been more trouble than you're worth if you ask me," Cinn said.

"Agreed, yet your leader refuses to just let us return home."

* * *

**Spock**

Spock convinced Nebbe to leave Baratta at the edge of the tree village, in plain sight, unattended. In his current state, Sinat wouldn't possess the self control needed to resist trying to take her. When he did, Spock would subdue him.

**Michael**

At first, Michael wasn't sure if what she heard was creaking wood planks or just a branch moved by the wind. The silence of the night was interrupted by the rustle of wind in the trees and the sounds of predatory nocturnal birds. But there was another sound. Something that didn't belong.

There was a hiss. Michael sat up and looked toward the cell door. She'd left her blinds up despite the chilly wind, in hopes they'd bring Spock to her. She peered through the bars, holding still, holding her breath.

A creak of wood. Then Sinat appeared at the cell entrance. She remembered that first night at the tihar, how the faces of the aroused Vulcans had terrified her. None had been more frightening than Sinat and T'Par. That same look of excitement and arousal was on his face now, but it was tainted by bright-eyed madness.

"Sinat."

With unusual strength, even for a Vulcan, he kicked the bars of her cell. They cracked and splintered, and moments later he was in.

"No!" Michael shouted, holding her hands up to ward him off.

Somewhere in the distance she heard Spock call her name. Sinat pulled her from the bed and slammed her into the wall. His breath was hot and stinking in her face.

"I remember that night with such clarity," he ground out. "I remember how disappointed I was that you refused to return to the meetings. Spock never came back, either. You both denied me the pleasures of your minds and bodies."

"Sinat, you need help."

"I need my bonded, but he is far away. I will have you in his place."

He reached for her face but Spock's hand gripped him by the wrist and pulled him back. Spock, now calm and centered, wasn't prepared for Sinat's insanity-driven strength. He reared back and unbalanced Spock, before he fell on him and gripped his face in a mating grip that Michael could also feel.

"My mind to your minds, my thoughts to your—"

Both Spock and Michael resisted his intrusion into their bond and pulled away from him. Sinat was momentarily dizzied and weakened when Spock attempted the nerve pinch, but he resisted and landed a blow to Spock's stomach, doubling him over.

"Sinat, no!" Michael picked up a broken piece of her cell door and struck Sinat across his back but he didn't even feel it. He was too busy trying to unfasten Spock's trousers. If Spock wouldn't bond with him, he'd take what he wanted by force.

"Give me what I need!"

"I will," Spock said calmly, resisting Sinat's attempts to undo his trousers, "but not like this. I declare kal-if-fee."

"Oh Spock," Michael said, filling with dread. Sinat was insane from a chemical imbalance. He would try to kill Spock. It would cool the blood fever, but it would leave her without Spock, forever.

**Spock**

Spock backed out of Michael's cell as Sinat advanced. His only concern was getting him away from his wife. After that, he just needed to survive the blood fever raging in his former Academy fellow until it passed.

Once clear of the cell Sinat charged. Spock dodged just enough for him to unbalance and fall two stories to the ground below. He hit hard, in a fall that would've severely injured or killed a human, the wind knocked from him. Spock pressed his advantage by safely jumping to the bridge below, and then down to Sinat.

All around them, in the trees above, the villagers watched with rapt attention as Sinat staggered to his feet and faced off with Spock. They swung at one another, traded blows. Michael was grateful that Sinat had been significantly weakened by his unplanned fall, or Spock would've had a truly savage opponent in his hands.

Sinat managed to get Spock to the ground and get a grip on his neck. He squeezed hard, determined to choke the life of of him, but Spock broke the hold and twisted, throwing Sinat off, where he landed punch after punch to his ribs and stomach. Breathless, barely able to move now, Sinat collapsed into Spock's arms, before sliding to the ground, panting for breath.

"Sinat?"

"Spock…apologies. I…"

"Apologies aren't necessary. All that matters is that you heal."

Spock wiped green blood from his lip before stepping back for Sitta and her people to collect Sinat on a gurney and take him to the infirmary for rest. Above, on the walkway, stood Michael, smiling at him in relief.

"I know you wish to speak with me," Spock said preemptively to Nebbe, who stormed over to him. "Shall we?"

Nebbe called for Michael to join them before leading them into his home.

**Number One**

Una and Linn were led to a shuttle that was docked on the same floor as her suite, but on the other side of the tree.

"Where are you taking us?"

"Diplomacy has obviously failed," Medde said. "It is time to escalate to the next authority. On our world, that's the Queen."

"Diplomacy was never really tried," Una said. "I was brought here as leverage against the Federation should your Diplomatic Prime decide we've caused too much interference with your cultural development."

"Your Prime Directive," said Medde, nodding. "And it would appear you've caught the attention of the Queen."

"Does your queen have a name?"

"Yes. Queen."

Una smiled and nodded. "When I fail to check in, and the others in his crew fail to contact anyone, your wife won't be able to stop my captain from taking further action. This could escalate to Starfleet Headquarters, and more ships coming. More outworlders."

"Don't be so pessimistic," said Medde, washing her off. "It won't go that far."

"I'm glad to see you're so confident."

Medde looked to Linn, who sat meekly beside Una. His hands were folded in his lap, his eyes remained downcast.

"Does my wife's favorite toy have nothing to say?"

"Surely you, of all people, understand he doesn't have a choice. He can't refuse her," Una said.

"Oh, I understand. I was once a favorite of hers. Then she elevated me to husband, and I now bear her a daughter. She feels she has chosen well, a husband that can produce a girl on the first try. It's fortunate for both me and the child. Her first two husbands tragically died in childbirth. The boys didn't survive either I'm afraid."

Una felt bile rise at the back of her throat. "That's…that's just despicable."

"That is her way. Linn here would've been next had my fortune not been so good. As it is, he'll keep his boyish figure. Now it doesn't matter if I have a boy next. She has her daughter."

The shuttle remained in the air for two hours of silent flight. Linn looked defeated, as though he expected neither he, nor Una, were coming out of this alive.

"So, how does it work? Delivering the baby?"

Medde opened the tunic over his belly, which revealed a long, red, horizontal line in the skin. It was slightly uneven.

"As we near birth, the cleft appears. It will open when the baby is ready to be born. It won't—"

Alarms began to sound, blaring loudly in the cabin of the luxury cruiser. The shuttle shuddered beneath them and Linn paled. He reached out and took Una's hand. She squeezed back, hoping to comfort him.

"What's going on?" Medde demanded.

"We're being tractored to the surface!" The pilot shouted over the blast of the warnings.

"Shut that fucking alarm off!" Medde demanded.

The pilot bristled, being spoken to by a man in such a tone. She swallowed her pride, unwilling to incur the Prime's displeasure. The alarms silenced, though red alert lights continued to bathe the shuttle interior with blood red light.

"Stop fighting the beam," Linn said. "You'll pull the shuttle apart."

"He's right," Una said, when the pilot ignored him, as though he hadn't spoken. "You can't break free. You'll only get us all killed!"

With a cry of frustration the pilot eased off thrusters and almost at once the shuttle calmed. Whoever controlled the tractor beam guided them smoothly to the ground. They set down with barely a bump. A few moments later they received a hail. A man's voice filled the shuttle cabin.

"You have been taken hostage by Equilibrium," he said. "Prepare for surrender and you will not be harmed. Fight, you will receive no mercy."

The guards prepared weapons at once and took up firing positions beside the doors. They tried using personal communicators to signal for assistance but only static came through. One of the women grabbed Linn and tried to use him as a personal shield.

"Fools," Medde growled. "You can't possibly hope to win."

"We'll go out fighting," said the woman using Linn as a shield.

"No, you will not," said Medde. "You won't endanger either him or my daughter with your ridiculous display of toxic femininity! Stand down!"

They remained in place, guns drawn, likely out of spite more than a belief they could win. Una lunged at one of the nearest guards and wrestled her phase pistol away from her. In the struggle, the guard managed to wrestle her onto her back. She aimed the weapon at Una and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened.

There was a crunch when Linn elbowed his captor in the nose. She cried out and fell back, blood pouring through her fingers. Una took advantage of the distraction and shoved the pistol up and into her opponents face. She fell backwards with a gash between her eyes and a stunned look on her face.

"You would fight a woman for a male?"

"Not to be insensitive to your culture, but fuck you," Una replied.

The doors descended when Medde opened them. He stepped forward first, hands held up in a gesture of surrender. Equilibrium soldiers rushed forward and aimed weapons in. The apparent leader fired a warning shot into the air before leveling the weapon at Una.

"Welcome, Commander. My name is Dirre, Equilibrium Prime. We have a lot to discuss."

**Spock**

"While you and your people were off fucking and fighting like savages, our Prime worked to take your Commander One captive," Nebbe said. "He has succeeded."

"Her name is not Commander One. It is Una. She goes by Number One, though that is not her given name."

"Whatever her name is, she's ours now."

"Has she been hurt?" Michael asked.

"Quite the contrary. We're not barbaric like women."

Spock looked for any reaction from Sitta. She merely gazed back at him. "Truth is truth. I take no offense by it."

"What will happen to her now?"

"The media portrays Equilibrium to be a group of unruly, ungrateful, and even unnatural men who have forgotten their place in proper society," Nebbe said. "We've been banished to the edges of society. A cautionary tale to children. 'If you're a bad girl, Equilibrium will snatch you up, take you away and do all sorts of awful things to you!' Children are taught to fear us, so they'll never try to understand us."

"You didn't answer my question," Spock pressed. "My commander?"

"She will meet with Prime to discuss receiving Federation help to end the inequality in our society. To force the Queen to give us a voice. The suffering of men and boys at women's hands must come to an end. Oppression has to stop!"

"I am afraid you have waisted your time, Sir. The Federation does not involve itself in the development of any planet. It is our Prime Directive."

"You're saying your people won't get involved? That all of our work to get Starfleet officers under our control has been for nought?"

Nebbe bristled with rage, fear, and disappointment. Spock could read every emotion to cross his face. Nebbe, his people, everyone he was associated with, had pinned their hopes on this maneuver. One that was made out of desperation for people on the losing end of a long and hard fought war.

"I would daresay it has," Spock replied.

Nebbe sat back, all the fight taken from him. But it didn't last long. He stood up, and Spock rose to meet him eye to eye.

"Then there's no point holding you in cells. Your cooperation can't be won with imprisonment. I will be willing to allow your people out of their cages," he said. "If you give me your word of honor that you will not attempt escape."

Spock quirked an eyebrow. "You would set us loose after learning we're useless to your cause, just on our word that we won't run? Fascinating."

"Fascinating? Cinn would call it stupid, as would many others. Escape will ultimately prove impossible. It will only lead to a premature death in the attempt, since you don't know the terrain."

"I will give the order to my people not to attempt escape. Though I doubt either Sinat or Baratta are in any condition to try," Michael said.

"We will see just how honorable your people are."

Spock bowed his head. "And we yours."

**Number One**

"Prime Directive."

Dirre clasped his hands behind his back after speaking the words and stared out of the window for a long time. He was older, his brown hair turning gray, his brown spotting was beginning to darken toward black. Outside he had a beautiful view of a rolling, sun-kissed valley free of trees. They were slightly above the trees at the edge of a community called Equality Hill.

"Do you know I, personally, shot down the shuttle carrying those Starfleet officers?" Dirre said. "I did it to get the attention of the Federation because I was under the impression they cared about relieving the suffering of innocents. But that caring is only extended to your own members. Everyone else can suffer and die? Tens of millions? You just don't care?"

Una sighed. "Of course we care. But that doesn't entitle us to play gods in other cultures. Your people have to grow in their own. Every society in the Federation had to overcome discrimination, bigotry, poverty, before they were deemed ready to live in the community of worlds that makes up the Federation. They did it without our interference."

Dirre sat at the table across from her and took time to pour a glass of red wine.

"We send covert operatives out to gather technology to improve the lives of our people," he said. "We have the genetic sequences of hundreds of Federation worlds that the Diplomatic Prime doesn't have. In preparation for your arrival I've sampled some dishes from Earth. I have a favorite: Filet mignon with asparagus. I also enjoy a wine called merlot. This."

He drank from the same bottle before passing her a glass. She sipped the wine and savored the fruity bouquet on her tongue.

"You served it in the appropriate glass. You know I prefer sweet wine instead of dry?"

"Quite the contrary, I personally like sweet wines, too. We're informed but we're not that informed. We didn't stalk you personally."

"What happens next?" Una asked.

"Come with me."

She took her glass of wine and followed him to the balcony. The wind was chilly but gentle. The sun began it's descent for the evening, casting everything in golden light. As the day grew dimmer the many lights that wove through the tree cities grew brighter.

"I am Prime for every Equilibrium settlement on Sebenn," he said. "My title is only official among my people. The Queen refuses to formally acknowledge us. Or me. This sort of denial of our cause has gone on for precisely one hundred fifteen years. Do you know why we're not angry about the crown's deliberate slight?"

"I would wager that it allows you to thrive," Una said. "It allows you to work in the background while they try to keep tabs on you covertly."

"You would win that wager," he said. "For one hundred years we have built public communities, with those who hope for a better future and equality between the genders living openly, even though they're in exile. We hold elections in which both men and women rule equally, proving, in easily observable action, that boys and men are every bit as intelligent and capable as women. Equality doesn't destroy society, it strengthens it. Men make great leaders, doctors, legal advisors, teachers, cooks. The only thing holding society in general back is fear, ignorance, a lust to hold on to power, and misandry."

Dirre took a pull from the cold wine in his glass.

"And then there's been another movement in the background. A movement in which people in power are Equilibrium agents. In a hundred fifteen years, we have infiltrated the highest levels of government all around the globe."

"Why are you telling me this?" Una asked.

"Because we'd hoped that the Federation would admit Sebenn. That in order to join a greater community the Queen would abide by Federation non-discrimination laws. We'd hoped they would send diplomats, open our world to outsiders who could force the monarchy to see how misguided they are and, if necessary, force change through a threat of violence. Perhaps the Queen could be replaced with a Federation representative. Or we could institute a democracy rather than a monarchy. Now I know that won't happen, I'm left with no choice but to act by force. It's time to begin the revolution. It's time to start a civil war, have brother against sister."

"The Federation can't get involved. I can't get involved. Neither can our captain."

"No…but we can finally start the change we've been trying to get started for far too long."

"If you've got it all figured out then you don't need me or my people."

"Oh, I'm certain I'll find a use for you."

He looked to Medde, who sat at the rear of the room.

"Are you ready?"

Medde nodded. "I am, Prime."

Una felt a rush of surprise, as though she'd tripped and barely caught herself. Medde was Equilibrium?

"You're in Equilibrium?"

"I am one of many."

"Make it appear to be an accident." Dirre's eyes bore into Una's. "I'm sure the good Commander here won't lift a finger to save your wife. Prime Directive and all."

"Understood…"

His voice trailed off as a wet line appeared across his midsection. He looked up at Dirre. "My water has broken, sir."

"Get the midwife," Dirre said. "It seems our plans are on hold. The Diplomatic Prime will live to see another sunrise after all. And see if the switch is ready."

**Michael**

The sunrise from the edge of the tree line was underwhelming. The mists that shrouded the mountains was constant. Rain was frequent but Michael didn't mind. It was better than the artificial environment of Discovery. She sat and looked out at the steadily brightening day, scratching at the newly placed tracking chip in her left hand. They had a five mile radius they could travel before they would be considered trying to escape. Five miles was generous, she begrudgingly admitted.

Though Spock's approach was silent, she could sense him. He slipped his hand into hers and they started off.

"Lunch?" Michael asked, spying a basket in hand.

"Indeed," said Spock. "Nebbe used my access codes to remotely pilot our shuttle in. We are not to fly it without his permission, but I thought we could keep close, use it as shelter should it rain."

They walked in silence, moving onto a trail that led them steadily upward and deeper into the mountains. The place was well-traveled, footpaths sturdy, if not a little uneven in places.

"You looking for something in particular out here?"

He glanced down at her, his face flushed slightly green. "Solitude so that we may get caught up on the past two years."

"I've tracked your career, you've tracked mine," said Michael. "I know mother's kept both of us up to speed on as much as possible."

"Indeed, her frequent letters have given detailed accounts of your life in her attempt to reconcile our differences, but that is not the same as speaking with you."

"You wanna talk about other lovers?"

They reached the shuttle but Spock laid the blanket out in a small clearing. It was far from sunny, but it was not the perpetual night of the village. He set up a tricorder to scan for anyone, Sebennian or otherwise, who might spy on them, or attempt to eavesdrop.

"There have been no lovers," Spock said.

"Same."

She felt his relief and chuckled. After a moment they settled down and Spock poured two glasses of wine a dark blue in color. Michael recognized the scent at once.

"Plimine wine," she said, savoring the sweet wine tinged with a bite. It was an acquired taste that she'd picked up by drinking it with Spock over games of chess at the Academy. "You don't have to get me drunk to get in my pants, Spock."

"Sex isn't all I desire of you, Michael."

Her connection with him allowed her to feel his ever present desire for her. That desire moved slightly closer to the surface at the mere mention of sex. Now it was on his mind, and it would be unless she distracted him, which she wasn't inclined to do.

"Wife," he said, touching her back.

The word moved Michael in ways she didn't expect. Spock felt it and sat up.

"A fear response to me calling you wife?"

"Not fear, nervousness. Our parents will find out. Our commanding officers will. Are you ready? Amanda might understand but Sarek won't."

"I had the impression it would be the opposite. That Sarek would understand while Mother rejected it," said Spock.

"Maybe neither one would."

She drained her glass and felt the warmth of the wine spread throughout her, melting away some anxiety. Spock assisted in that.

"So, Husband, what now?"

"Do you remember the Christmas party the day after Mother's birthday?"

She knew exactly what he spoke of. A smile spread across her face.

"Father in his Santa hat, telling us he had long ago decided it was more diplomatic to go along and observe the tradition…"

* * *

One of the sternest men Michael has ever known comes downstairs in an ugly Christmas sweater that matches his wife's, wearing a red floppy hat with white trim and a bell at the end. She genuinely tries to not laugh, but a fit of giggles overtakes her that leaves her doubled over, slapping her knee. Her dignified foster father looks like a gigantic green elf.

"Oh, hush!" Amanda says, trying to quiet Michael. "Sarek, I adore the sweater."

"It wouldn't due to ignore the proper attire for a traditional holiday you hold so dear, wife."

Tears spill down Michael's face as she gasps for air, shoulders shaking with laughter.

"Michael, I hope you're someday blessed with a husband who loves you as much as my husband loves me."

Michael sobers and wipes away the tears. Her eyes go to Spock, who stands at the top of the stairs, amusement in his eyes, if not on his lips.

"Something tells me I will."

She rushes up the stairs and drags Spock into her old room where presses her lips to his. Her hands find their way under his tunic where she caresses his nipples and feels his breath quicken.

"Our bond has shown you the depth of my love for you, Michael, yet I flatly refuse to wear such undignified attire, even for you," Spock says, pulling off his shirt.

"Flatly?" Michael says. Her voice is low and had the smokey quality of desire to it. "You would refuse me such a simple thing?"

"I am here, aren't I? Rather than…studying…"

His eyes widen when she puts his hand under her shirt, where he grips one naked breast. Her nipple hardens as he runs the pad of his thumb over it, returning her earlier gesture. She feels the heat in his eyes manifest in the forum of wetness in her panties, and a dull ache in her pussy.

A low, short growl escapes Spock in response to her arousal.

"Very well, Wife, I will wear the ugly clothing and that disgrace of a hat," he says. "If it pleases you."

Michael rubs her hand over his trousers and the erection growing there, stroking his length. "Only you can truly please me, Spock."

* * *

Michael reached out now and ran a hand over Spock's snug trousers. He hardened before her eyes, making the trousers tight. She got up and led him into the shuttle. Outside sex would be pleasant, but the risk of being spied on dampened her mood. The doors hissed closed and Michael eased Spock onto his back where she worked down his trousers until they were around his calves.

"I intend to enjoy this," she said. "I plan to enjoy you."

He relaxed into the cushions while she took him in hand and stroked him until he was hard as stone. She'd had Spock in her mouth before, but it had been awhile since she'd tasted him. He filled her senses with his scent and taste now. She took as much of him into her mouth as she could without gagging.

His hand gently caressed her shoulder as she worked her mouth over him. She kissed the underside of his shaft, down until she reached his balls. She lavished attention on them, suckling and licking them. Every warm wet stroke of her tongue elicited a sound of pure enjoyment from him. She picked up speed, driving him closer to completion.

Then he stopped her.

"Inside you," he said.

Michael pulled the hand she'd subconsciously slipped between her legs out of her panties and worked her clothes down. Spock, almost greedily, slid her fingers into his mouth to suck them clean. Then he pulled her beside him and adjusted her in front of him.

"What do you want?" Spock whispered.

"You. Just you."

Her legs were tangled in her trousers when he entered her. He shoved a hand between her legs to massage her clit, sending shocks of pleasure deep inside. That sweet ache intensified as he filled her with his cock, but refused to move at first. His deep voice, moaning in her ear as he began to move with the slightest of thrusts, driving her mad. She felt her body clench tight around him. A moment later he stiffened, a guttural moan tearing free from him as he came.

"Oh Michael…"

She enjoyed the pulse of his cock as he emptied himself into her. A moment later they fell asleep.

**Spock**

The sound of rain roused them an hour later. Spock hardened at the feel of Michael against him. He freed their bodies of clothes before moving atop her, lust burning hot inside of them. He felt her wetness against his aching flesh as surely as he felt her love, mingled with raw need, through their bond. He didn't bother with elegance. He got on his knees and lifted her up, holding her legs in the crook of each arm and began thrusting hard and fast until Michael was screaming, her body clenching and gushing as she came around his cock. Harder, faster, until he emptied himself into her once again, vulgarities spilling from his lips as he filled her.

"Fuck," he gasped, dropping her legs and collapsing into her. His cock, still hard, trapped between their bodies. "Michael."

He allowed himself to laugh with her while she held him against her sweaty chest.

"I'm dehydrated from all this coming," she said. "And starving."

He pulled himself away from her and walked to the shuttle replicator. Her eyes roamed his body, and she liked what she saw. He had the sexiest legs. Thick thighs, and a firm, rounded ass. He liked the sight of her naked as well. Her slender arms, firm breasts, and beautiful legs that were strong het slender.

"Cheeseburger with bacon?"

"You know me too well," she said.

He ordered for her, and then a salad for himself with a protein packed coating of simdar beans, all native to Vulcan.

They ate in silence, enjoying the rain beating against the shuttle.

"What happens next?" Spock asked.

"My body can't handle more sex right now. I'm getting sore."

"That's not what I'm talking about and you know it."

She did know. She just didn't want to face it.

"We don't have to leave this world," he said. "We could stay and make a life here, build a family. Equilibrium would accept us."

"We could build a family and have our careers."

"And which of us transfers to accomplish that?" he asked.

Disappointed, Michael slipped her half-eaten food into a recycle slot. "Let's not have this talk, Spock. Everything is going so well, can't we enjoy it?"

"I merely want you to love me as much as I love you," he said. "To want to be with me as much as I do you."

"Why have you always doubted that I do?" she asked.

"Because you always leave! Just like you plan to leave as soon as possible to return to the Shenzhou. To your career. Without me."

"So I'm supposed to give up my ship and transfer to the Enterprise? Live on your ship, with your friends so I can be with you? Why? Because that's what women are supposed to do?"

Spock made a sound of disgust before reining in his emotions. He was beginning to shut down as the afterglow of sex gave way to hurt and anger.

"I would give up everything for you," he said. "But you do not want me there, in the life you have built for yourself. You fear judgement from your peers and our parents. You want us to enjoy this while it lasts, and then walk away. Again."

He was at least grateful she didn't insult their bond with lies designed to comfort him. He pulled back from their bond.

"Spock, don't. Don't shut me out. Not again."

But he did. He pulled away from their bond until he was alone in his mind, fighting down anger and heartbreak. He starts pulling his clothes on. The honeymoon was over.

"It is always the same story with you, Michael. I was a fool to hope this time would be different."

"I love you. You know that isn't a lie."

"Indeed I do. But love is not always sufficient. Shall we?" He motions to the shuttle exit.

"No. I want us to stay. I want you to hold me and let me back in. Be my husband even though you're angry because that's what married people do. They work through it instead of shutting down!"

"And I want our marriage to be open and on record. I want you to be proud of us rather than ashamed and afraid. Come or stay. The choice is yours. I'm leaving."

She stayed. She curled into a ball and wept as he walked away. It felt good to hurt her as she'd hurt him. But it also broke his heart. Never again would he attempt to be anything but a brother to her, if that. He would never play her fool again.

Yet that night, in the domicile Nebbe had provided for them, he didn't push her away when she came to him drenched and shivering from walking alone in the rain. He remained shut off from their bond, but he allowed her to curl up behind him and get lost under the blanket, and his higher body heat warmed her. When her body no longer shook from the cold, it shook from quietly she'd tears he pretended he was asleep and couldn't hear.

**Michael**

News came the next morning. A revolution was at hand. Civil war was coming to Sebenn.

She didn't care.

Her husband stood, back straight, shaving his beard at the sink as though he hadn't fucked her less than 24 hours ago, and nearly drowned her in lust and powerful emotions he normally kept tamped down. Her hurt turned to anger as she watched his calm. His indifference to her pain.

"You never loved me," she said. "You lusted for me but love? No."

His silence infuriated her. Michael launched herself from the bed as Spock finished shaving. He dodged the blow she sent at him and shoved her back.

"What are you doing, Michael?"

She didn't scream, shout, or cry. She attacked. Spock deflected and tried to keep space between them. He even attempted the pinch but she evaded it.

"Coward," she whispered. "Child."

"I'm a coward? Me?"

"You went from being inside of me, body and mind, to casting me away. You didn't get the answers you wanted so you threw a tantrum and shut me out. You didn't even try to come up with a solution, to compromise. For the record I'm not ashamed of us. At least I wasn't until this. You said you loved me more than your next heartbeat but as soon as you sensed my fears you got angry and bolted. You walked away when you should've stayed. You turned your back to me when I needed you to hold me!"

"Michael—"

But she couldn't stop the flood of hurt that bubbled up from the depths of her heart.

"You spent the night in bed with me crying and you fell asleep? Never once reaching out to touch me? To comfort me? How can you claim to love me and do that? How can you fall asleep to the sound of tears that you made me cry? That isn't love, Spock. You don't understand the first thing about it!"

"Stop," he said, his eyes reddened with unshed tears.

"I know how to break a marriage bond. You taught me."

There was fear in his eyes now. "Wait. Please."

"It's your way or no way, isn't it, Spock? Give me a reason to stay. Give me a reason to call you husband."

He opened his mouth to respond. Nothing emerged. He looked like a scared animal in a trap.

"I refuse you. I am mine and you are yours. Kal-eh-nok."

She saw his emotion rather than felt it. The bond was broken. She pulled away and felt it dissolve, but only because he let go. He let her go, rather than fight for it.

"You just…" Spock said, sounding as defeated as he looked. "That is your wish, I grant it."

"You will never break my heart again, Spock. You will never have my trust again."

She moved to leave but ran face first into a bemused Nebbe, who'd apparently walked up and listened in.

"Are you two exemplary of Starfleet, and your respective species? If so, how has that organization, your people, thrived as well as it has with brothers marrying sisters and constantly fighting?"

"He isn't my brother by blood, ok?" Michael said. "What do you want?"

"The woman, Baratta, is recovering but is asking for you."

"I'll help her. I need a place to stay anyway."

"You're being as stubborn and hot-headed as your brother/husband," he said. "The only thing keeping you two apart is the two of you. You're getting in the way of what you want most. And you, Spock, need to set your pride aside. Stop using love as a punishment to get back at her when she hurts you. It's petty and juvenile. You will not be given separate quarters. You will remain here, together. At least at night. Grow and learn from this."

Michael pushed past Nebbe, her face burning from the chastisement. He was right but she wouldn't admit it. At least not to Spock. Not now.

Baratta sat in the middle of a mat with a simple candle burning in front of her. A small bowl of scented oil was beside it. Michael thought it looked like a Vulcan meditation ritual but the Tennian culture, split off from Vulcan, had evolved in a slightly different way. Everything was similar, but different, like two cultures using the same words but every word had two different meanings.

"You're troubled. Are you and Spock fighting?"

"You've got enough to deal with, Baratta. Don't worry about me. How can I be of help?"

"You can't. Sinat helped me meditate in a meld, but the imbalance requires a mate. I…I was weak and afraid to die. I was unfaithful to my husband. I took a Sebennian man to my bed. I feel sick."

"Oh, Baratta…"

"He's on Enterprise right now. In orbit but not within reach. How will I ever look him in the eye again?"

"Will he sense what happened through your bond?"

"My husband is human. Tennians can't form bonds outside of our race, except with Vulcans. But I intend to tell him."

"Why? What good will that do?"

Baratta cocked her head to the side. "What? Keep a secret from my soul mate?"

"If it will spare him pain, yes. You let it hurt you to shield him."

"And your own marriage? Your voices carried. It's why Sitta sent Nebbe to check on you. The fighting."

"You heard?"

"I heard the bond breaking declaration. Was that wise?"

"No. But I can't…I can't be with someone who can be so cold. So cruel."

"You've bonded with him. You've literally been inside his mind and heart. Is he really cold, cruel? Or was he acting out while hurt?"

"It's not…what he did…we can't just…"

"Kiss and make up? Sure you can. You just have to set aside your pride and try. Now, if you don't mind, I could use some help bathing. I reek."

Michael helped Baratta to her feet. She felt light, and bones normally hidden beneath curves were sharp under Michael's fingers.

"After this, breakfast," Michael said.

"Then you talk to your mate."

She refused to make any promises, but she would at least not pick a fight. That would have to do for now.

**Number One**

Medde was covered in sweat, reclining in a birthing chair with his eyes squeezed shut. He had almost no color in his skin.

"Oh, by the ancient gods, the pain," he moaned.

The midwife smiled sympathetically as he rubbed Medde's feet. He examined Medde's ankles. A look of concern on his face.

"What's wrong?" Medde asked, seeing it.

"You don't have the normal fibular edema for this stage of delivery," he said.

"What's that mean?" Una asked.

The midwife gave her a look of distrust mingled with curiosity.

"I don't know how it is with your species, but when a Sebennian man gives birth the fibular sacks should develop and fill with amniotic fluid. It acts as a repository to keep the cleft from drying out and closing prematurely. His sacks have only a quarter what they should."

There was lose skin hanging from Medde's ankles. Nearly empty sacks.

"They should be fully distended, which means the fluid could build up and rupture the amniotic sack, or the body may reroute it through the bladder. I'm going to give you a shot of amnitrol to encourage circulation."

"If there's a rupture?" Medde asked.

"We'll have to put you to sleep, pry open the cleft, and take the baby. But it's not going to come to that."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Una asked.

"Usually the man's father and another close male would be here to help massage his legs, and exercise them."

"My father is dead to me," Medde said, his face looking thunderous at the idea of the man.

"The last thing you need is stress. Think of the baby," the midwife chastised.

"I'd like to help," Una offered. "If that's alright?"

Medde nodded and she pulled up a wheeled chair to sit at his feet where the midwife showed her how to properly massage the calves, and push the legs back and forth, before he administered a shot through a hypospray.

"This is fascinating," Una said. "A man giving birth."

"I'm equally interested to see a woman give birth," he said. "I am Perr, midwife to the Prime's council."

"Number One…Una, First Officer of the USS Enterprise."

"Do you have children?"

"No. Not the maternal type."

She worked the muscles in Medde's right leg, and was relieved when the sacks began to slowly swell.

"The fibular sacks are purple, kind of bruised looking. Is that normal?"

"The darker the better," Perr said, smiling at Medde, but Una saw concern.

Suddenly Medde cried out. Una tried not to look alarmed when the crack in Medde's belly widened.

"Oh, it's time. The sacks should slowly empty and fill," said Perr.

Una nodded as Linn took Perr's place. The midwife moved to physically examine the cleft, and began massaging around it, making it open more. Then the red flesh in the center split with another cry of pain, revealing the placenta inside. The sacks in Medde's ankles repeatedly filled and deflated as Perr said they should.

"Oh, please, make it stop…" Medde moaned.

"You need to push."

The cleft dripped fluid as Medde pushed. He strained, making the cleft widen, and then the baby crowned.

"You're doing very well, Medde. Keep pushing."

He pushed whenever his stomach contracted. When the shoulders emerged, Perr took hold of the baby. With one last push, Perr pulled the baby free, and snipped the umbilical cord. A tap on the bottom and the baby took a breath, began crying.

"I was told you were having a girl," Perr said. "But this baby is male."

He lay the baby on a scale and then lay him on Medde's chest.

"9lbs, 2oz. Congratulations."

Una and Linn were allowed to approach the baby.

"He has magenta spots," Una said.

"All babies do for the first few days," Medde said. "Forgive the subterfuge but I had an Equilibrium doctor falsify the scans to hide the baby's gender. I'm sure you understand why."

"Of course I do," Linn said. "We all do."

"What will you say happened to this child?"

"One of Hirra's cousins is in Equilibrium," Medde said. "He is going to trade his daughter, who is also being born today, with my son. A few modifications to her medical badge will read her DNA as Hirra's daughter, rather than her cousin."

"Is that the switch Dirre spoke of?" Una asked.

Tears spilled from his eyes. Una lay a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. "Oh, Medde. I'm so sorry."

He took a deep, shuddering breath and nodded. "It is necessary. Sacrifices must be made."

"Having to give up your son to keep your wife from executing the two of you shouldn't be one. This isn't right."

Perr's eyes fixed on hers before he went about the work of delivering the afterbirth. "Perhaps," he said, "you would bathe the boy and dress him? The less time Medde spends with him, the easier it'll be to let him go."

"It won't make it easier," Una said, gently taking the baby from his father's embrace. "Nothing will."

Before she could finish dressing the baby, the girl child was brought in. Medde took her to his bosom, which had begun to lactate, and fed her, but the look of sadness in his eyes broke her heart.

"Linn, will you find the Prime? I need an audience with him. Tell him I'm willing to hear him out. I make no promises, but I'm…I'm ready to talk. And tell him I need to communicate with my captain if I'm to make a final decision.

* * *

"Under no circumstances are you to break the Prime Directive!"

Captain Pike leaned into the screen, glaring at her. His look of anger was tinged with fear, as though he new Una had made a decision and he was afraid he wouldn't be able to talk her out of it.

"Captain…Chris—"

"Don't you 'Chris' me, Number One. You do anything to interfere in the natural evolution of Sebenn you'll be courtmartialed, stripped of your rank and thrown into prison. There will be nothing I can do to save you."

"After everything I've told you about Medde? After learning this is the reality of every man outside of Equilibrium, you'd have me turn my back to that?"

"Yes," he said, without hesitation. "I'd have you do your duty. I'd have your loyalty to Starfleet, and the ideals you swore to uphold, placed above the troubles of Sebenn's people. I'm not without sympathy, Una, but we cannot get involved. I order you to stay out of their affairs. You will obey that order. Am I understood?"

Una stood with her back straight, hands clasped firmly behind her. War raged within her, though none would guess it by the placid expression on her face. To help Equilibrium, in any way, would spell doom to the career she'd spent twenty-six years building. Her record was flawless thus far. It was a lot to give up.

Captain Pike ordered a junior comm officer, still in Starfleet Academy but on externship, Nyota Uhura, to contact Hirra about beaming their people out, now. Una liked Uhura. She wondered if she'd ever see her again.

But what was her sterling career in the face of such horrid abuse and oppression? The suffering of an entire group of people based solely on something as irrelevant as their gender couldn't be allowed to continue if she could help it. Yet she knew that every death of the matriarchy that came from there out would be on her hands.

"Una…" Pike said, seeing her reach a decision. "You haven't been yourself since you came to this planet. You're not thinking clearly. Have they done something to you? Are you under duress?"

She shook her head, pulled out her communicator, and laid it on the table before she pulled off her tunic, wearing only her Starfleet issue undershirt.

"It's been an honor serving with you, Chris. I hope you'll say nice things about me at my trial."

He didn't speak another word. He just sat back in his chair and the screen went blank. The disappointment hurt more than a lecture.

"I need to see my people. Give them a choice to join or not. Regardless I need their safety guaranteed."

"I watched you sacrifice your life among your people for the good of ours. Your people are safe, regardless of what they decide. When the fighting starts, I'll have the security grid lowered so your captain can beam your people out. I give you my word."

Una held out a hand that Dirre stared at in confusion.

"It's customary to bind verbal agreements with a handshake."

She gripped his hand and shook. "Now, fearless leader. Take me to my people."

**Spock**

It wasn't easy to enter the small domicile he shared with Michael that night, but he entered, his face passive, relieved she couldn't feel his emotions through a bond. He was in turmoil, and bond or not, he knew she could read it in him. He was relieved to see that despite her efforts to be as passive as any Vulcan, Michael was as inept at hiding her hurt as he was.

At least his anger had passed. For all her talk of cowardice, she'd used their fight to divorce him out of fear.

"I must ask, Wife…Michael. Was a divorce what you secretly wanted all along?"

He took a seat beside her on their bed, rested his hands on his knees, and kept his back ram rod straight. He waited for an answer.

"I've thought of that all day. I think I was quick to do it because I'm scared."

"Of what?"

He felt her look up at him.

"Losing myself, my uniqueness, to you. That you'd consume me like fire. I know how you hunger for me, Spock. I'm afraid I'll give too much that I can't get back."

He took those words in. Considered his reply. She gave him the time.

"I looked forward to losing myself in you," he finally said. "To reach the point that we're one mind. I see now that is too much to ask of anyone."

She deflated beside him and plopped back onto the bed. Spock laid beside her. They looked up at the lights strung over the bed, struck by how they looked like stars in a nebula.

"What happens next?" Michael asked.

"We try to find a way off this planet. Let them solve their problems on their own."

"And then?"

"We part. You return to the Shenzhou, I return to the Enterprise."

"That's all you want?"

Spock looked over at her. "You know what I want. What I want is too much. We are better off seeing one another as siblings. Or, rather, let people think we do."

He saw the sadness in her eyes. Hated that he put it there. Hated everything he'd said to her, and failed to fulfill her needs as both husband and friend. He slipped his hand into hers. "We have a duty to uphold, and people to care for. Let us complete that duty…Sister."

"Agreed," she said, but nearly choked on the next word. "Brother."

Despite using sister and brother rather than wife and husband, he wanted her. Missed that he wouldn't get to share that side of her. He saw she was looking down and followed her gaze. His tunic had parted, revealing his flat stomach, and a line of hair that vanished into his trousers.

She rested a hand there, let her fingers rub lightly over his skin.

"Michael…" he didn't need telepathy to know what she wanted.

She plunged her hand lower, into his pants where she stroked him. He hardened with painful urgency and moaned. She was on him, frantically pulling at his clothes until he was free. Then she worked a leg free of her own trousers and mounted him.

"Oh God," she moaned, as she took every inch of him inside.

Oh God indeed. He thrust up, felt her fingers did into his chest, liked the pain and the all-consuming need inside him.

"I can't be without you," she moaned. "Oh, Spock…"

They moved together with harmonious rhythm. He stroked all the right places to drive her to completion, inside and out. He played her body with the same finesse he played his lute.

"Do it, Spock. I shouldn't have broken it."

She was holding back. Or trying to. Waiting for the words she needed to hear most as she led his left hand to her face.

"I love you, Michael, more than I love my next heartbeat. I am yours, as you are mine."

"I love you, Spock, more than I love my next breath. I am yours, as you are mine."

Their minds and hearts bonded. Her orgasm was one of the most powerful he'd felt yet. Half the village probably heard but he and Michael didn't care. He was vaguely aware of planting his feet on the floor for purchase and increasing the speed and force of his upward thrusts until he emptied inside her. When he dropped his hand from her face he could still feel her in his mind.

"I will apply for a position on the Enterprise," she said, once she'd caught her breath. "I'll never leave you again."

"I could come to the Shenzhou," he said. " It doesn't matter what ship I'm on, as long as I am with you."

"We'll worry about that later," she said, feeling him soften inside her. "But we're together. Never to be parted again."

They fully undressed and slid under the covers. They were sated for now, and sleep came easily for them both.

* * *

"Lieutenant, Commander."

It was the next morning and Spock rested his head against Michael, who panted beneath him, under the covers. He'd just finished inside her, was sharing thoughts and feelings through their bond. He was balls deep and thought he could harden again, soon, if he could catch his breath and bring his body back under control. They looked up to see Una had lifted their blinds and leaned in the doorway, watching them with a raised brow.

"You know…I'm not even gonna ask what you're doing naked on top of your 'sister', Spock. It's none of my business. Also, I'm not your CO anymore. I resigned my Starfleet commission so I can join Equilibrium. Get dressed at your leisure and meet me ground level."

Michael and Spock stared after her for a few long moments, after she left, before speaking in unison.

"Fascinating."


	2. Equilibrium

**Michael**

It was a rainy night when Michael Burnham sat on the edge of the bed, listening to the wind and the drops of water that managed to blow in through the branches above and around them. It was always rainy in the Bei-Nin mountains. The mists never fully lifted, which she sometimes found depressing, but for the most part she'd adjusted to it and even took comfort in the gray days and wet weather. She tried to let the steady thrum of rain against the trees and the thatch roof above her ease her anxiety as the possibility that Sarek would manage to successfully negotiate their release.

Her husband just did not understand her desire to not disappoint the man who'd raised them both, since he didn't share in that desire. Michael was convinced Sarek would neither understand nor condone their union. How could she not, after the look in his eyes the one time he'd even suspected something he deemed unnatural had occurred between her and Spock? He'd looked at her as though she was perverse creature that he'd unwittingly allowed to come into his home to corrupt his noble son. Like she was a mistake he'd made and regretted. He would look at her in such a way again, when he learned of her marriage to Spock. He'd denounce her as any sort of kin. He'd turn his back on them both. Spock truly would be ok with that, but for Michael it would mean she'd have lost a father all over again.

Spock shifted in bed behind her and she looked back. He was asleep, his bare back muscled and lightly scratched from their most recent tryst. The sheet rode low on his hips, exposing that dimple above his right ass cheek that she liked to look at. He slept in complete silence, no snoring, his breathing deep and even. It was the sleep of a contented man at ease with his life. Despite her fears regarding Sarek she was also content.

Life on Sebenn, despite the war, was the best it had ever been for her. She had a husband, a home, and new friends, but she couldn't deny she missed the Shenzhou. She missed her captain, the science officer, Saru, and everyone else she served with. But now it was like she straddled two worlds. If she remained on Sebenn she could find a place and live in domestic bliss with Spock. Or she could return to Starfleet, her duties, but she'd have to choose between the Shenzhou or the Enterprise. Spock would go to either one, but she knew the sacrifice involved in either of them choosing to leave their respective ships.

Spock had learned to give her privacy for her thoughts. He didn't intrude now and take too much of her. She loved him for that. She loved him for everything. What would she ultimately decide? How would she choose between the love of her life and her career? That was an impossible decision. She knew she'd have to take a demotion to serve with Spock since there couldn't be two first officers on the Enterprise. She wouldn't be able to earn her own captaincy and have him serving on her ship if she decided to return to the Shenzhou, and a captaincy of her own was what she desired most. No, Spock and a family of her own was what she desired most. Didn't she? How could she ever make that decision? Just knowing that the time to make it loomed ever closer as Starfleet's most brilliant ambassador was coming to negotiate for their freedom filled her with dread.

"Wife," Spock said, turning over in bed. "What troubles you?"

She turned to look back. The sheet barely covered Spock's manhood. She stroked a finger slowly over him, just a single stroke, and she watched his cock lift in response, expanding to full size, hard as stone. Spock was such a virile young man. Impressive in every way possible. The sheet fell away as his member stood proudly up, fully erect. She felt herself flood with heat at the sight of him. He was flushed lightly green from his Vulcan blood, a dreamy look in his eyes as he gazed upon her.

"I'm troubled by what always troubles me."

"When the time comes you will know what to choose," he assured her.

"If you don't like my decision?"

His answer was to hold his hand out to her. She used it to move up and straddle him, pressing his cock between them as she leaned forward and rubbed her clit over him. The underside of his hardness slipped through her slit, getting slick with her. He was veiny, warm, and hard, pulsing against her in eager anticipation of her lifting and guiding him inside. It didn't matter how badly she wanted him, how open she was to him, taking in his length and girth always required care the first time.

They moaned in unison as she settled onto him and began a slow roll of her hips. Her pussy throbbed with need. It was wonderful, that feeling of pure, aching lust, but so was the overwhelming love she felt for him. She stopped moving and gazed at his handsome face. Words weren't necessary. He could feel her love through their bond.

"I knew I wanted you before our first kiss. Years before that," she said, rolling forward, feeling him rub up against that sweet spot inside that made her throb even harder for him.

"Show me," he said.

She flashed back to the kahs-wei, a second Vulcan ritual of survival, taken after the kahs-wan. When Spock was twenty-one years of age she remembered standing at the pass at Vulcan's Forge with Amanda and Sarek. He'd emerged before the sun had completely set, dirty, his shirt missing and his trousers in tatters since he'd had to use part of his shirt as a bandage for a wound on his right arm. Amanda had rushed to greet him, while she hung back with Sarek, startled by an epiphany: He was no brother of hers.

Spock was a young man, and she responded to him as a woman in that moment. She remembered her body reacting to his near nakedness at the pass, then later, as she'd watched the dirt slowly dissolve from his skin as he'd taken the ritual bath in the garden of the family home at midnight, under a half-moon. Sarek and Amanda had gone to sleep, but there would be no sleep for Michael, who sat watch over him from her bedroom window ledge while the water cleansed him of the last of the filth of the desert.

"It struck me that you were a man, and not just someone I had to see as my brother," Michael said, moving her hips a bit faster, feeling the tension build inside. "You were a good-looking man at that."

"I remember the bath," Spock said, his voice choked from the effort not to wrest control of their union from Michael and pound into her as he wanted. He let her enjoy her pace, keep control by moving the way she needed to take pleasure in him, on her terms. He moaned an obscenity at the feel of her heated wet flesh rubbing around his aching hardness. "You were on the ledge above, and the wind brought the scent of your arousal to me. I knew it was you, and what it meant. I was shocked at first. My own sister? But then I realized that no…you are not my true sister, but a lovely young woman."

"I didn't know that…"

She suddenly saw herself from Spock's perspective. She wasn't supposed to watch him while he was naked, but she couldn't resist. Water ran over the taut cheeks of his ass and over his thighs, cleansing them of Vulcan soil.

"I could smell your arousal," he said, straining to speak against the lust that choked him as she ground against him, moving from rolling her hips to bouncing on his cock at a faster pace. He enjoyed the sound of her panting breath, and the occasional light, wispy sounds of pleasure that slipped from her lips. He pinched her nipples and was rewarded with a moan, and more from the memory. "Do you not remember seeing my hand move?"

Michael thought back. Spock, in the water, naked, his right hand in front and his left hand suddenly gripping the stone column in the fountain. He'd turned to look up at her, saw her watching him, unaware of what he was doing. His eyes met hers for a moment before he turned away. Now, with some life experience, Michael realized Spock had been beating off. At the time she'd been innocently oblivious to it.

She showed him herself from that night, her hand in her panties, her fingers moving inside as she imagined it was Spock that penetrated her. They laughed now, having never known they'd masturbated to each other that night. Now, Michael thrust her hips, bouncing faster, faster, while Spock rubbed her clit with the pad of his thumb. Their moans became harmonious as they strove for completion. She finished first, letting the tension inside uncoil as she came, her muscles clenching Spock in a tight flutter that undid him.

"I wish we never had to leave this bed," she said, cuddling with him as he kicked the now-hot sheets off. He stroked her shoulder. She felt the scratch of his beard stubble on her forehead.

"We have duties here, even if we do not wish to interfere in the natural development of this planet," he said. "Though I wish the same. I would make love to you, mind and body, every moment of every day if I could."

But they needed sleep. They had an early day to start in the morning. She snuggled under the blanket with Spock when it became too cool and let her eyes drift shut as he tapped the light controls that plunged them into total darkness.

Dawn came earlier as the days grew longer for spring on Sebenn. Michael and Spock awoke a full hour before dawn, regardless so they could enjoy a hot shower. Water showers were still available on Starships but were a strain on the ship's recyclers, so the crew were allotted one shower a week. On Sebenn, a water shower was the only option, outside of the sonic cubicle on their shuttle.

Michael let the water spill over her skin as she lathered a washcloth and ran it over her body, wiping away Spock's scent. She knew she would smell like him again before they settled in for the night, but she still regretted it. It felt, ridiculously, like a rejection of him, but she couldn't shake the notion. He'd already shaved, and now stood looking down at her with curious eyes, as he rubbed a soapy cloth over his chest and stomach.

"The others would not appreciate my smell on your body as you do," he said. He smiled easily with her now, laughed often. His laughter was deep, from his chest, and she closed her eyes as he ran his washcloth over her back to clean her. She tamped down on her desire for him. If she just pushed her naked ass against him right then he'd take her, hard and fast the way she wanted it.

"We would be late," Spock said, reading her thoughts.

"Yeah. We don't want to be late."

"We're not on a Starfleet ship. I suppose a little tardiness is forgivable," he replied, before thrusting into her, and being rewarded by the feel of her clenching around him in an immediate orgasm that lingered even after they'd finished, and he came.

The tables were crowded with people and dishes. Benches creaked as people climbed on and off them. Spoons and forks clinked against wooden bowls with a slightly hollow sound. The scent of coffee, made from a food replicator, drifted to Michael, mixed in with the pungent odors of several traditional Sebennian breakfast dishes. Michael scooped out a grain cereal that was vaguely like oatmeal and sweetened it with fruit. Spock did likewise.

The Sebennians, it turned out, liked coffee as much as Michael, and Spock developed an appreciation for it as well. She saw Kak sitting at a smaller table, away from the others, as was her morning custom, dressed in a flattering seafoam green tunic over black trousers, her fingers steepled before her, lost in meditation. Kerry and a Sebennian gentleman he was seeing fed each other bites of food off their plate, smiling and gazing with a great deal of care into one another's eyes. Sinat brooded at the end of the table, having been quiet and withdrawn ever since his fight with Spock the previous month.

"Morning," Baratta said, sitting down with a cup of coffee. She had a busted lip and a dark bruise around her right eye, which twinkle with amusement as she gazed at them. "You two were 3.2 minutes late for the sounding of the breakfast chime."

"What happened to you?" Michael demanded, and evading an explanation for being late.

"Lost a fight with Linn last night," she said. "Cinn is a grade b asshole. He constantly antagonizes Linn, making fun of him for being used by Hirra, like rape by coercion is funny. Linn wants to fight his own battles, and I respect that, which is why I agreed to give him hand-to-hand combat lessons. He's an excellent student."

"He defeated you?" Spock said.

"Fair and square, as the humans say," Baratta acknowledged.

"Sebennians are very adept at learning. The men seem to be more inclined to intellectual studies, though those strengths are ignored in favor of forcing them into menial labor due to their physical strength and perceived intellectual inferiority," Spock observed. "Though they are, of course, quite cable warriors."

"That's what happens when prejudice holds people back," Michael said. "People aren't allowed to play to their strengths."

"I would prefer you stop the lessons forthwith," Spock said. "Linn can learn from his own people, and we mustn't get too involved with them lest we risk violation of the Prime Directive."

"Understood, Sir," Baratta said, though she looked slightly disappointed. "Any word from Number One?"

"She prefers to go by her given name, now," Spock said. "The last I heard, Una was on the front lines at Gidd-Ha. She is training the troops in close quarter combat."

"That's halfway around the planet," Michael said, deliberately working to keep her mouth from falling open. "She's on the front lines? Is she teaching them Starfleet fighting methods?"

"She is on the front lines but whether or not she teaches them anything related to Starfleet sanctioned battle tactics is unknown," Spock answered. "The campaign, according to Nebbe, is going quite well under her leadership, though the reports I've heard incorporate the fighting combat strategies of several Federation worlds, including Vulcan. There's talk that she's taught them Klingon techniques with the bat'leth's they've replicated, as well."

"Of all the people to betray the Federation and break the Prime Directive, I can't believe it's Number One," Michael said.

"She doesn't appear to be herself," Spock said. "None of us are."

"What do you mean?" Michael asked.

"As much as we love one another, Wife, don't you think we are a bit…ardent…in our desires for the physical act of love?"

Michael gave it some thought. She remembered the last time they were lovers. They'd had a lot of sex, but they hadn't wanted to have sex every day, sometimes twice a day. They'd shared a bed without anything more than a goodnight kiss for several nights in a row. They hadn't been obsessed with it as they were now. Not that she was complaining.

"The Spawning season," Baratta said. "We're in the thick of it, with two months to go. Emotions run exceptionally high."

"Three months of every year the Sebennians are enticed to mate by a sharp biological imperative driven by hormonal changes," said Spock. "Pheromones saturate the air. For them is a mild annoyance, easily overcome but for us it is an overwhelming drive to mate, to fight, to feel everything exponentially. We not only desire sex more, we have behaved in ways wildly out of character for all of us."

"Still, how would that compromise Una's ability to understand right from wrong?" Michael asked. "How would it drive her to commit treason?"

"Linn!" Michael, Spock, and Baratta spoke at once when the answer hit them.

"She's been seeing him since before she left for Gidd-Ha," said Michael. "If she has an attraction to a local it would explain why she's gone against everything she believes in. She's sacrificing everything for him. For love."

"Just as Kerry has," Baratta said. "He's resigned his Starfleet commission to join Equilibrium."

A little girl with bright orange hair and spotting ran up to their table.

"Sitta wishes the three of you to come to her lab. She said it's important."

They abandoned their partially eaten breakfast to head to a two-story laboratory deeper into the tree cover. Michael remembered it as the place as where she and Spock reunited to resolve the pon farr. Now, she and Spock worked there as medical trainees who treated minor injuries not sustained in the war efforts. They also helped maintain the recyclers in the afternoon.

Sitta's lab was on the first floor. Michael liked the wide-open space because the rotunda at the center of the lab had been placed where the trees had been cleared to allow sunlight, such as it was in the mist-shrouded mountains, to filter through. They approached the exam room where she now sat with Linn. He clutched his middle, his features lost in thought.

"Did I hurt you in our last lesson?" Baratta said. "I assure you I didn't mean—"

"There will be no more combat lessons," Sitta said. "I have just discovered Linn is pregnant."

"Oh Linn…" Michael said, touching his arm. "You won't be forced to keep Hirra's baby, will you?"

"Hirra isn't the mother," said Sitta. "Your commander, Una, is." 

* * *

**Una**

Una took a seat in the air cruiser and dropped her bag while Dirre took up the pilot station. A sigh of deep weariness escaped her. Not that she cared if Dirre saw her tired. He saw her as human, rather than as some war goddess who'd single-handedly save Sebenn from self-destructing in a civil war, like it seemed everyone in Equilibrium did.

The only thing she wanted now was rest. She needed it, in Linn's arms, no less. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of the heated leather seat beneath her. It was soft, not surprising since she was in a luxury shuttle that had been outwardly converted to a warship. There were so many canons she'd once joked it looked like a porcupine. Though she had zero doubt she would complain if the Crown's forces managed to attack en route to Sedda Seh.

"Excited to see your boyfriend?" Dirre asked.

Boyfriend? What am I, sixteen?

"My partner? Yes. I look forward to seeing him again."

"You could better ensure his safety if you were to help us upgrade our weapons systems to Starfleet's—"

He immediately cut off at the thunderous look on Una's face. "I have done everything I can to help Equilibrium fight this war. I'm fighting for equal rights for men on this world. Because of that, I can never go home. I will not, however, give you an unfair advantage over the other side with advanced weapons. It has been proven time and again that nothing will destroy a culture faster than tech it isn't ready for. I will not do that."

"And I will not ask again. My apologies."

She sat back in her chair and stared out of the viewport. Her eyes eventually wandered to the sky. She couldn't see it, but she knew there was a Starfleet vessel orbiting Sebenn. It wasn't Enterprise. They'd been called away on more important matters. Yet, there would always be someone up there, trying to work with the reigning government to bring her in alive and unharmed. When they did that, she would face court martial and sent to a prison colony for life. The only thing that would make it worth it would be for men not to suffer what she'd seen Medde and one of his wife's cousins suffer with having to switch their children at birth, and then return to that monster he called a wife to pretend he was a happy househusband and homemaker. Or Linn, who would be sexually exploited, with no real legal recourse, just because he was male.

Linn…he was a comfort to her heart. A light in the darkness of this alien world she'd fallen so hard for. She watched the brilliance of the sun diminish as the shuttle hurtled along at high altitude across the planet, its sensors searching for any threat. A few times they were approached by Crown forces but, the shuttle being so heavily armed, weren't engaged by any suicidal pilots. The only reason the defense grid didn't fry them were the Equilibrium agents in the government. They'd taken control of it, along with most of the planetary power sources. Over sixty percent belonged to them, now. The Crown was going to lose the war, Una was certain it was only a matter of time.

Dirre's hand on her knee roused her from thought. She looked down at it, and then back up at the longing in his eyes. He was a good-looking man, but she wasn't interested. Probably wouldn't be even if she didn't love Linn. She removed his hand from her leg and shook her head.

"Women often take more than one lover," he said, sitting back with disappointment obvious on his face.

"I am not a woman of this world," she said. "I will not betray the man I love with you, or any other man."

"You're a woman of one man."

"One-man woman," she said, appreciating his effort to learn even antiquated Earth adages. "Yes, I am. Don't you have someone waiting for you?"

"I did, until she was discovered to be an Equilibrium spy and was executed."

Una shook her head. "I'm sorry. Was it recently?"

"Last year. She was the queen's lady-in-waiting."

"That close?" Una asked, surprised.

"That brave, that loyal, that beautiful," Dirre said. "One year, one week, three days ago precisely."

"You didn't mention it on her anniver—"

"I'd rather not speak of her."

Una fell silent and watched day turn to night, watched land masses remain largely dark, with entire cities obscured by the massive, towering trees in which they were built. Except for Power Central, a sprawling network of power grids that shunted energy over the planet, free for anyone below to take, and causing no harm to the environment. That's what set the Sebennians apart from most cultures. They'd never harmed their world in that way, raped it of resources until it almost died before they'd change. Their greed didn't lie in money—it lay in control of one gender over another. Power Central spread out for hundreds of miles like a glittering city. It made Una think of home, and her heart ached for it. She'd never see it again.

After a five-hour flight the shuttle touched down at Sedda Seh. Linn stood at the edge of the village, along with Spock and Michael Burnham, and Sitta. Her pulse began to race. Sitta was the chief healer. Had something happened to Linn? To one of the Starfleet crew stuck on the planet with her? Dirre retired to the comfort of his shuttle while she stepped out to be greeted her friends.

"Una, my love," Linn said, holding his hands out to her. She wasn't one for public displays of affection, Linn knew this, so he was reserved in his greeting. But she did allow a lingering kiss, even with Spock and Michael watching.

"I've missed you," Una whispered. "Why such a large greeting party? I know this isn't to welcome me home."

"There is an urgent matter to discuss," Spock said. She knew Spock better than anyone on Enterprise, except for Christopher Pike. She could read him, and he was clearly miffed with her. He looked and sounded like he wanted to chastise her.

"Then get to it, Spock."

"My office," Sitta said.

"No, now."

Linn began to smile while Spock glared, Michael shook her head, and Sitta looked concerned.

"What?" Una demanded, confused by the various emotions written on everyone's faces.

"I'm pregnant," Linn said. "We're going to have a baby."

Una felt as though the ground beneath her feet was going to shift. It would tilt and she'd tumble from the planet and into the atmosphere. The only thing that anchored her was the feel of Linn's arms around her.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" Linn asked, looking worried now.

Una opened and closed her mouth as she searched for words to adequately convey her feelings. Finally she settled on, "Holy shit." 

* * *

**Spock**

Spock walked beside Michael, behind Una and Linn, who were arguing in quiet voices. Linn, hurt that his woman wasn't as excited at the news they were expecting as he was. Una, giving off waves of abject fear, which he took petty satisfaction in.

"I am curious as to how you could be so wantonly careless," Spock said, as soon as they entered the lab. It was deserted of both patients and workers.

"Do you know how rare interspecies breeding without deliberate medical intervention is, Spock? Besides, this is none of your business," Una said. Spock ignored her.

"You come to this world," he continued, "betray your oaths, your people, your duty, break the Prime Directive with wild abandon and without regard to the damage you're doing to the natural evolution of this world, take a native inhabitant as a lover, and now you've gotten him pregnant."

"I'm well aware of—"

"A diplomat of the highest caliber, my father, will arrive soon," he pressed. "It will not matter to either him or Starfleet if you've mothered a child here. They will arrest you, convict you, rightfully so I might add, of your crimes, and imprison you. Your child will be a half-breed on this world, unique, alone, never to set eyes upon his mother! All because of your selfishness and foolishness!"

"Spock!" Michael said, gripping his arm.

Every word he spoke brought out anger from a place he'd long thought dead and gone. Anger with his parents for creating him. For every taunt he'd ever endured. Every unkind word and look of disgust and disdain that had been visited upon him.

"He isn't wrong it will be completely unique," Sitta said. "That's if the baby makes it to term."

"What do you mean?" Linn asked, his hand moving, unconsciously, protectively, to his middle.

"It would appear that humans and Sebennians are highly compatible species," Sitta said. "Except your tests show that your immune system is waging an intensive attack against the ovum. That isn't quite so unusual, an immune response, but I've never seen one so strident before. Without intervention, and soon, you will suffer a miscarriage."

"Then let nature take its course," Spock said.

"How dare you!" Linn demanded. He looked ready to attack, use some of his newfound combat skills, but held back.

"That's cold," Una said. "Even for a Vulcan."

"It would be in the child's best interest to—"

"Luckily for me you don't get to decide what's in the best interest of my child," Una said. Tears moistened her eyes, and Spock's anger cooled enough for him to realize how heartless he sounded.

"I am sorry," he said.

"Right now, I don't care. Get out."

He nodded to her, felt Michael slip her hand into his, and walked out, leaving Una and Linn to discuss a way to save their baby with Sitta.

"Is that how you feel about children?" Michael asked. "If I became pregnant would you feel that way?"

"The day we conceive a child will be the happiest day of my life. It could only be matched by more children," he said. "I know what it means to be a child of two worlds. To feel as though as though I only had one parent that loved me. I regret that Linn and Una's baby will also share a similar fate. It will be the first Sebennien child to be born to an off-worlder. I am rare, but I am not completely unique. This child will be."

"And then I got all of Amanda's affection."

He turned to Michael and tilted her chin to face him. "No. I hold no grudge against you for the love mother showed you. I understood she was trying not to confuse me or put me in a tug of war between logic and feeling, with father pushing so hard to raise me in the Vulcan way. You were a gift to mother. A child she could share emotions within a home where there was so little of it."

Michael nodded. He could feel relief through their bond. The need to hold her, kiss her, comfort her, was a powerful one. He gave in, leaned down, and claimed her lips in a deep, gentle kiss. Her lips parted and he deepened it, tonguing her slowly as he enjoyed the feel of her arousal heat his blood.

"Spock? Michael? What are you doing?"

Spock felt his blood turn from fire to ice in his veins. Michael's desire turned to panic. He broke the kiss and looked to the source of the first voice he ever heard in life. There she stood, Amanda, his mother, hands over her mouth as Sarek looked on with an expression carved of stone. 

* * *

**Michael**

Don't panic. Don't cry. Don't react.

Michael burst into tears as Amanda and Sarek stared at them. Her worst fear was happening, now, and she was completely unprepared. She'd wanted to tell them about her and Spock on her terms, not have them shocked and unsettled by it. She needed them to understand that what they shared was love, nothing strange or perverse, but the looks on their faces…

"I always knew something was amiss," Sarek said. "I let Michael convince me that she was safe with you, that you'd never done anything untoward to her, because that was the easy path to take. Yet you could not help yourself from…"

"Please, Father," Spock said with a slight sarcastic bow, rage boiling in him, rather than ice in his veins, now. "Finish your thought. I could not help myself from what, exactly?"

"Violating your sister," Sarek said. His veneer of control was perfect, but it was just that: a veneer. "I should've done something to protect you, Michael, years ago. I failed you as a father as surely as Spock has failed you as a brother."

Spock openly smirked and shook his head, showing naked emotion for the sake of laying it bare for his father's disapproval and shame. "Yes, I raped Michael years ago. I confess that I forced a meld on her, so I could control her mind. I convinced her she loved me, and then I raped her."

Sarek's jaw began to work as Amanda looked on in horror. "Spock, stop it! I know you better than that. So does your father. You'd never do something so heinous. Let us sit down as a family and—"

"Please, Spock," Michael said, beginning to feel sick, knowing how bad, how truly ugly, things were about to get between him and Sarek.

"Michael, come here," Sarek said, holding a hand out to her. "Come away from him. You don't have to stay with him."

"In point of fact, I've been violating her since we got here," Spock continued, taking satisfaction in taunting his father.

"Another fight's about to break out, people," Cinn said, from somewhere on the sidelines. "These Vulcans are fucking savages. Bets on who wins?"

"Spock," Michael said, but his focus was on facing his father. Pushing his buttons. Trying to get a reaction out of him. She wasn't entirely sure he was aware of her, even with their marriage bond.

"I'm sure I've done things with my precious sister that you've never done with Mother because you won't allow yourself to feel anything. I've tasted every inch of my sister's flesh, Father, and she tastes sublime. I've forced her to let me feel her from deep inside," Spock taunted. He gripped Michael's face, looked at her mouth where he ran a thumb suggestively over her lips. "I've even watched myself come into this luscious mouth of hers and watched her swallow me. You know, regardless how hard I try, she always wants more of me."

"Spock, that's enough!" Amanda shouted. But Spock had no mind for anyone but his father. His hurt and anger that Sarek would assume the worst of him, had always done so, ran too deep to stop his taunting now.

"I will not be goaded into an emotional response, Spock," Sarek said, but his voice was tight. His jaw muscles were bulging as he bit down on his feelings. "Michael, come here."

"She'll stay with me," Spock said, moving his hand to the back of her neck, where he gripped her. "You see, she and I share a bed. A bed where I intend to keep her, whether she wants to be there or not. She will lie naked under me tonight, as she has every night since I arrived. I will slip between her thighs knowing how it disgusts you, and I will revel in driving her mad with lust. I'll make her cry out in pleasure, pain, and shame, as I've been doing as often as I physically can. I'm going to drag her back to our bed and fuck her right now, and there's nothing you can do to stop me. Nothing you can do to protect her from me."

He finally got the reaction he desired. Sarek cried out in rage, disgust, and lashed out at Spock, who knocked Michael to the side, where she fell to the ground, barely missing a strike from Sarek who was in a blind rage. Father and son danced around one another in an elegant, violent, display of Vulcan martial arts, each trying to land a blow against the other, ignoring cheering Sebennians taking bets on the sidelines. Sarek fought with experience. Spock fought with vigorous youth and a desire to hurt his father as much as his father hurt him.

"No, please, stop," Michael moaned, feeling dizzy now, sick at her stomach, miserable from the assault of raw emotions from her husband through their bond. "Spock, you're hurting me!"

Amanda was by her side moments later, cradling her to her chest as she looked on, also miserable, as the two most beloved men in her life tried to hurt one another.

Spock please stop…

Spock finally heard her, felt her distress through their bond, and let his guard down to look at her. Sarek pressed his advantage, kicked his son in the stomach, sending him flying back, before he fell upon him and rained blows upon him that would've crushed a human.

"You will never touch her again!" Sarek shouted into his son's face, spittle flying, eyes gleaming in blind rage.

"Sarek, stop!" Amanda physically placed herself between her husband and son. Sarek came within an inch of striking her, his fist bloodied and raw. His breath coming in ragged and fast.

He got up, and Spock immediately turned over, climbed to his feet, and spit a mouthful of green blood onto the ground. Breathless. He staggered upright, dizzy from the beating.

"Because that's all Michael could possibly feel with me, isn't it? Shame. Just like you! Shame and disgust," Spock cried, tears mingling with his blood. "She couldn't possibly love me, or want me for who I am, because you couldn't accept me! Isn't that what you think?"

"She was raised in the same house with you as my daughter," Sarek said, tears glistening in his eyes. "She is the child of your mother and father, and she was brought up as your sister. Yet you have—"

"No, Father, I love him," Michael tried, when Amanda returned to her.

"Of course, you think you do," Sarek said. "That is the meld talking. That is Spock's sick lusts overpowering you and forcing you to think that."

"Meld with me, Father. Look at the truth yourself," Michael begged.

"Do not bother," Spock said. "He will only twist the truth to see what he wishes to see."

"Father, please. Look. Spock is innocent of what you accuse him of."

Sarek allowed Michael to guide his hand to her face. After a moment of resistance, she felt his mind touch hers, felt him sifting through the memory of the first time she saw Spock as a man, at Vulcan's forge, and then their first kiss. After that he backed away, shaking his head, and she felt it then. Disgust. Not just for Spock, but for her, as well.

"Spock and I, after the falling out, we grew apart in the familial sense," she tried to explain. "We didn't see one another as siblings but as a man and a woman. We loved one another. We still do. We…we married…and when he arrived here, to rescue me and my crewmates, the pon farr struck. We both suffered it, resolved it, and we've committed to one another. We've been living as husband and wife because that is what we are. He is my beloved. He never violated me. Spock is a good man. He's a man of impeccable character and I love him, Father."

Sarek stood, straightened his clothes, and placed a hand behind his back. He was completely closed off from her now. Shut down. Ashamed. The pain of his rejection was so complete, so deep, Michael could only weep as Amanda held her and tried to comfort her. She looked to her mother, desperate for some understanding from at least one of them.

"Think whatever you will of me," Spock said. "But I will never forgive you if you hurt Michael."

"Please, Mother, please tell me you understand," Michael pleaded.

Amanda rubbed her back. "I don't quite understand all that's happened between you and Spock over the years, but I know you're my little girl, and Spock is my boy, and I love you both. That will never change. You bonded as husband and wife? So be it. You're married."

"Wife, attend me," Sarek said. He held up his arm, waiting for her, back stiff and his face stony.

"Sarek, we need to—"

"Attend!" he said, grinding the words through clenched teeth.

"My mother is not your slave," Spock started.

"You need to tend your wife, my son," Amanda said, getting to her feet. "She needs you right now. I do not. You should put her first."

Glaring at his father, Spock moved past him and scooped Michael into his arms. She could feel pain in his body as though it was she that Sarek had just delivered a beating to, and she sensed the effort it took to walk with her, but he did walk away rather than continue to argue. Michael looked behind him as he led her back to their quarters. Cinn annoyingly complained that he'd bet money on Spock winning the fight and now had to pay up. Spock took the stairs carved into the side of a tree, rather than the ladder, even though it was further away. Amanda watched her and blew her a kiss before Spock took her into their quarters and pulled the shade down.

"Michael—"

"Get away from me," she said, filled with anger for him. "Those horrible things you said. How could you shame our father into a fight? His dignity means everything to his mission here! The disgusting things you said in front of Mother? Claiming to rape me? Talking about coming into my mouth and fucking me?"

Michael turned her back to him, curled up and wept. She felt his hurt, especially when she turned from him. Felt his weight behind her, shaking as he sobbed with his hands covering his face in shame. Despite her anger, hadn't she once asked him how he could turn his back to her when she'd needed him? How he could let her weep without holding her? She could feel everything he felt. Old hurt that preceded even her arrival into their house. How unfair it was that his own father would assume the worst of him. Had assumed he'd raped her.

"Wait," she said, fighting a hopeless battle between anger and sympathy. "Spock."

"I will give you space," he said, getting up to leave, assuming rejection, something he had become too familiar with in his life. But Michael hurried in front of him and blocked his path, pulled him to her, wrapped her arms around him and held him, careful not to aggravate his injuries. She refused to let go, and in moments felt his gratitude that she held him rather than rebuked him.

"I'm siding with him over you and that's not fair. I've always done that," she said. She felt his hurt at this fact, as well. "He should never have assumed you'd do something as ugly as rape me, Spock. That was wrong of him. You had every right to be hurt and angry at that. I am as well. That he would think I would ever need protecting from you is absurd. You would die for me, and I for you."

"I would give up everything for you," he whispered. She felt his tears drip onto her face as he wrapped his arms around her. "He fills me with rage that blinds me. It has always been so."

"I know," she said, cradling him. "Oh, Spock. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, baby. I love you. Never again will I side with anyone against you. I'm your wife, and I'll be your greatest ally. Always. Right or wrong, I'm with you. For you."

She repeated the words even as he carried her to their bed. Even as she wrapped her arms around him and held him as he cried. Sleep found him eventually, and she followed him into it with weariness that reached deep into her bones.

At some point in the night she was awakened by the feel of his hands pulling her panties down, but part of her wondered if he was completely awake at first. His fingers rubbed her clit, making her ache for him. Only Spock, moving deep inside, could ease that ache.

"Take what you need, baby," she whispered.

She felt his tears drop on the back of her neck when he turned her face down. He began to pound into her. Rough, hard like she'd expected during the pon farr. It hurt at first, but then the pleasure came from the feel of him driving into her with merciless thrusts that had started hard and slow but now came faster and faster. She braced one hand on the headboard to keep in place, one on his head which he tucked into her shoulder, and rode out the storm until she soaked their thighs and sheets, and cried from the strength of her orgasm.

Wife, say my name.

"Spock. Spock, I love you."

He stiffened as he found release. She felt his cock pulse as he emptied himself into her. Moments later they collapsed. Spock fell back to sleep almost at once. Michael tried to hold him, but he was curled up, closed off, keeping his turbulent dreams from her. She wished he'd let her in, but there were some things he needed to be his and his alone. A check on the clock said they'd have to be up in an hour anyway. She decided to give him that, maybe even allow him to sleep in for a bit.

Nausea settled in as she showered and changed into an outfit. She wore a sparkling pink tunic with crimson striations throughout. She belched uncomfortably and moaned before moving to the tables where breakfast was being set out. Dirre and Una were already at the end of the table, conversing, while Linn pinched his nose shut. He got up and left, saying he needed to be away from the scent of the food.

"Sitta," Michael said, entering the lab, where the healer had just arrived. "Do you have anything for nausea?"

"Sit down. You and Linn have both been in here for the same thing."

"My upset stomach has a different cause," Michael said. She explained about the fight between her father and husband the night before.

"I suppose stress could cause nausea," said Sitta. "However I'll have to run a pregnancy test before I can administer any medications that might be unsafe for an unborn child."

"I'm not pregnant, Sitta," Michael insisted.

"Then there shouldn't be an issue with the test. Come along."

Sitta took a device out that was a lot like a tricorder and began running it over Michael's abdomen. "I suppose you're all clear. Here you are."

Michael sighed in relief as the shot took hold. "Thank you. Listen, I have a question about how Linn could have gotten pregnant by Una. I know our species are compatible but how does that work, exactly?"

"Sit down. Biology lesson coming right up," Sitta smiled, and pulled up a diagram.

The Sebennian female anatomy was very similar to a human female's anatomy, if the human woman had gotten a complete hysterectomy. It's the men who varied greatly. In the men there was a uterus and a large muscle that acted as a cervix. There were also some differences with the penis, as well. There were four flaps of skin on the head of the penis that opened to release a proboscis.

"So, here's how a man gets pregnant on Sebenn," Sitta began. "When intercourse happens, as a man begins thrusting, this proboscis is released. It attaches itself to the servi, here."

She pointed to a ball that sat where the cervix would sit in a human woman.

"This is the servi. It's filled with all the eggs a woman will ever have. When copulation takes place, a man who is in heat will release the proboscis and it will draw an egg from the servi. A state of sexual arousal is necessary for the woman's servi to even open. The proboscis then transfers the ovum to his urteri, here, where his climax will flood his uteri with sperm. They will then seek to penetrate the egg and begin the process of fertilization. Judging by my scans of Una, this is supposed to take place in her body. A man's sperm is to flood her vagina, then make its way into her urteri, or uterus as your people call it, where there is an ovum waiting for fertilization."

"So, how did Linn even get Una's ovum?"

"She was ovulating. His proboscis pulled it from her, as it would ovum from the servi. She said it felt quite good, that pulling sensation, and didn't question what was happening. From there the egg was transferred to his urteri and fertilized after his climax."

"May I ask if you've found a way to save their baby?"

"We're working on something, but I can't go into detail without their consent," Sitta said. "You look exhausted."

"I had a bad night last night."

"I heard of the fight between your husband and father. Your people mystify me, I must admit."

Michael nodded her agreement. "They mystify me at times, too. Thanks for the biology lesson, Sitta. And the shot."

Michael found the smell of cooking breakfast quite pleasant now. She headed for the tables, ignoring the curious, and sometimes hostile, looks of the others. Just as she'd gotten into their good graces, her husband and father, or was it father-in-law now? They'd gone and fucked it up. She wasn't expecting to see her mother sitting at the end of the table with Sinat, Kerry, Kak, and Baratta, but she went over, her eyes scanning the crowd for her father.

"Sarek returned to the Diplomatic Corps last night," Amanda said.

"He must hate me."

"Oh, Michael, Sarek may be displeased with his children but hate you? No."

"He accused Spock of rape. I find that unforgivable," Michael said. "Or at least, hard to forgive."

"Will you walk with me?" Amanda asked. "Bring some tea."

Michael poured two cups of tea and gave Amanda one. They emerged from the trees and into a mist so heavy it would be easy to lose sight of the entire village in only a few steps. Michael led Amanda to a bench where they sat down to enjoy their tea.

"I understand Una has impregnated a Sebennian man," Amanda said. "This will make Sarek's duty even more difficult. She has a legal right to apply for asylum from the Federation. Sarek and I are sure Dirre will win this war in less than two years."

"It's that bad for the Crown?"

"They ignored their people, Michael. They underestimated men's intelligence, their ingenuity, in favor of clinging to the ideology that men are inherently inferior, especially intellectually. This has led to men playing up that prejudice to put themselves close to women in power. Pillow talk is well and good, but when you don't bother to hide secrets from servants because you genuinely don't see them as people, you open yourself to failure and betrayal. Even now male servants walk past Hirra, the Queen, and other powerful women, reporting their plans, because they just cannot see them as anything but men, beneath them, good only for serving and pleasing them."

"Does Sarek plan to point this flaw out to them?"

"To what end?" Amanda asked. "That would influence their evolution, and Michael, they desperately need to learn this lesson the hard way if they're going to grow."

Michael sipped her tea, her mind on the war.

"Just as Sarek needs to learn to see his children for what you are."

"And that is?"

"People. Adults free to make their own choices," Amanda said. "I remember taking heart in seeing Spock holding you once, as you cried. You'd learned of being excluded from a wedding party by a woman you'd thought was your friend. Were you two together then?"

Michael nodded.

"You're the reason Spock petitioned T'Pring for annulment? She accepted so she could be with Stonn."

"She intuited Spock's reason. She actually wished us well."

Amanda chuckled with Michael. "May your union be long and prosperous?"

"That's the blessing," Michael said. "Considering my lifespan, she knew it wouldn't be. Not by Vulcan standards, at least."

"Not every Vulcan woman is a catty bitch," said Amanda. "Could you please give me a brief history of your romance with Spock? One much more sanitized than the pure filth he spewed at his father last night?"

Michael told her about seeing Spock at Vulcan forge. How she and Spock began sending her thoughts of an amorous nature a few years later. She spoke of how they'd decided to bond in the marriage union but did not register on Vulcan for fear of her and Sarek's reactions. How she'd gone to the Shenzhou rather than remain by his side, as his wife. He'd put her away for it and she grieved him. Then, when she'd crashed on Sebenn, she'd responded to the Spawning.

"You think that triggered the pon farr in Spock, even when he was on the Enterprise, because of your bond?"

Michael nodded. "I could sense his control slip even then. It only got worse when he reached the planet."

"I truly believe Sarek has been affected," Amanda said. "He'd once come to this world as a younger man. He believed he'd created an inoculation against the Spawning but he didn't believe he would need it. He lost control and fought Spock. He was quite…vigorous…last night, when we returned to the shuttle. I took the inoculation so I haven't been affected."

"Did Father?"

"After the fight, yes. He is settled now."

"Spock would never have said what he did were he not emotionally compromised."

"Agreed," said Amanda. "Sarek will propose that is the reason for your union with Spock. You must not let him dismiss your love for Spock as a hormonal imbalance. Make him face it, Michael. You are our daughter, bonded in marriage to our son. He must be made to accept and respect it."

"Do you?"

Amanda sighed. "I was disturbed at first, but I've had time to accept that you are not related by blood. You grew up. You fell in love. You have married. I can think of no one who will challenge my son to be the best man he can be other than you. So yes, I accept your union since disowning you is my only other choice, and that will never happen. We will need to plan a Vulcan ceremony and a human wedding when we leave here. I will not be satisfied until I see you in a gown, exchanging vows."

Michael laughed with her until Spock emerged from the mist. His face looked awful, bruised and swollen.

"Use the medical equipment on my private shuttle to clean him up? I'm going to speak with Una."

"Mother," Spock said. "I must apologize for the vulgarities I uttered in front of you last night."

"Yes, you certainly must," Amanda said stiffly. "You both disgusted and embarrassed me. Not to mention you shamed your own wife."

"I am deeply sorry. I apologize to you both. That is a mistake I will never repeat."

His look of contrition was sad, genuine. Amanda hugged Spock close for a moment and then released him. She touched his face, careful of his wounds.

"Forgiven, then. As for you and Michael, I am genuinely happy for you. We're still family. We always will be. You have my love and my blessing upon your union."

"Do you really think she's ok with us?" Michael asked, once Amanda departed.

"I trust what mother tells us. Even if she is not, she would put our happiness above her desires anyway. In the end, Michael, we must decide what is best for us regardless of how they feel."

"I'm with you," Michael said. "No matter what Sarek might say. Now, let me heal these wounds." 

* * *

**Una**

"We've managed to take out the head of Sanitation, as well as seventeen recycling centers in the southern hemisphere."

Medde was on the screen, a secure line, holding the little girl he now raised as his own to his bosom, where she fed. Her silver spots looked like drops of mercury on her skin. Her head glowed with silver hair. It was a recessive gene on Hirra's side of the family, one her mother shared, which precluded her suspicions about her husband delivering while in enemy hands.

"This is excellent news," Dirre said. "Let us see how long it takes the Queen to come to the table when her precious palace, indeed her city, reeks of garbage and shit."

They shared a laugh. Una only smiled vaguely.

"How is the little one?" Una asked.

"Always hungry or sleepy, or in need of a change," he said. "It will be awhile before her personality kicks in. Though she does scream whenever her mother tries to cuddle her. She only settles when she's in my arms."

"She must sense something," Dirre said. "Hirra's rotten core, perhaps."

"Is it time for Hirra's 'accident' yet?" Medde asked hopefully.

"Hold off," Dirre said. "Now that the fighting is going strong, I need to know what is being planned on her end. I know that's a sacrifice on your part, Medde, but it needs to be made."

"And if she feeds me false intel to test me? She'll kill me and raise Tirra to be a monster."

"We will vet, thoroughly, any info you send us."

Medde suddenly tapped the screen. They could still see and hear everything but apparently the screen appeared to show something else on his end.

"How many hours can you possibly spend on expense reports?" Hirra demanded. "Has it never occurred to you to get Tirra some sunlight and fresh air?"

"I take her out daily, my love. We went to the park just hours ago."

"Are you saying I'm unaware of how you rear our daughter?" She challenged.

"No, of course not."

"Put her in her crib. I'm going to deal with you."

Una exchanged a glance with Dirre. "She just wants to fight. No matter what he says or does she's going to take it out on him."

"Hirra, I have done nothing to deserve this," Medde said, as he gently laid Tirra in the crib, but the baby sensed something and began to cry.

"All that damn thing does is wail," she said, pacing. "I can't even hear myself think!"

She lashed out at Medde, who instinctively raised a hand to shield his face. She gut punched him, knowing he was still healing from birthing their child. Over and over again she kicked and punched him, until he fell to the floor and cried. It was only his tears that sated her rage, made her feel as though she was victorious over him. She stood panting, glaring at him in disgust, as their child screamed from the crib.

"I really don't know why you make me have to treat you with such a harsh hand, Medde. If only you were brighter. I suppose it would happen with less frequency. Do I really need to tell you what to do next?"

"No."

Una watched in horror as he got up, face bleeding, beginning to bruise, his stomach cleft bleeding, and unzipped her trousers. Una looked away, as did Dirre, when he began to perform oral sex on her. She moaned, made noises that disgusted Una, until she pushed Medde away and pulled down his trousers. She worked at him as he closed his eyes and tried to hide his revulsion. Friction brought on an erection that she lowered herself onto and began to moan until she climaxed.

When she was finished, she stood and fixed her clothes. "Why is there no dinner on the table?"

"You said you wouldn't be home tonight."

"Well, you dim witted fool, apparently I am. Get something!"

"What would you like, my love?"

"Start recording," Dirre said. "She might say something."

"Baffa fish, roasted, on a bed of pickled seaweed. I'm in the mood for something sour and tangy. I've had to listen to the Queen blunder through another damn meeting. By the ancients, how she manages to get dressed in the morning is a miracle. I don't think she could handle that task without her ladies. I have to do everything for her."

"It sounds very stressful," Medde said. He cuddled the baby, shushing her, as he went about, with a battered face and body that surely caused him great pain, replicating dinner for his wife, who droned on and on about the queen's ineptness.

"Like today, she insisted I didn't take that Vulcan male hostage. As though we'd ever seriously consider anything a lowly male diplomat had to say. We need to retrieve that woman, Una. The council would listen to her. That's if she hasn't been gang raped by feral Equilibrium scum."

"They don't know about me joining Equilibrium?"

"My people obey orders. They are never to speak of you, so they don't."

On the screen, a thoughtful look crossed Hirra's face. "I would bet anything she finally understands how savage men are since she's been in captivity."

"Of course, my love," said Medde, speaking mechanically. He held a knife that he used to slice bread in a shaking hand. Hirra went unaware of the rage in his face, his desire to kill her as he held the knife and stared at her with open longing to plunge the knife into her.

"The Queen is so desperate to cease this war she's ready to talk to that Sarek fellow. He's only here to retrieve his people and get out. He won't become involved in this war. But I fear with Her Majesty the Fool we'll lose."

"A display of female might is in order, perhaps?" Medde suggested.

Hirra laughed uproariously at that. "You're such a good little man, Medde. You never forget your place. When I seize the throne, a display of female power is exactly what they will see. I will send all of my troops to attack the poorly defended outlying Equilibrium villages rather than continue fighting them on their ground. Trained traitors and their dogs are formidable, but those villages will fall with so few soldiers left from the main front to protect them. Oh, I can't wait to see how quickly they beg to return home when we leave them in the mud, their trees burning along with their men and children."

"That sounds like a superior plan," he said, serving her dinner.

"The Queen says it's dishonorable to attack men and children, can you believe that? These people are traitorous scum. She's afraid such a move would only martyr them, make Equilibrium fight harder. I'm going to prove her wrong. Show her how easily these weak men can be broken. The council will follow me when I begin to score victories while she fails. When I slit her throat, the others will fall in line."

"We should show this to the Queen," Una said.

"She won't trust it coming from us," Dirre said. "She will need someone she trusts to bring it to her. We've got just that person."

"Who?"

"Sitta."

"Why Sitta?"

"Because Sitta was once in command of the Queen's Guard. She was supposed to infiltrate Equilibrium and gather information about me, but she fell for Nebbe. She hated the life of a warrior. He made it possible for her to be a healer."

"And you never told us this?"

Una bit down on her words, worried that somehow she'd endanger Medde if she yelled, which was ridiculous, but something she couldn't shake.

"She's a double agent," Dirre said.

"How do you know for certain she's truly loyal to Equilibrium?"

"She's never betrayed us, regardless of the opportunities she's had. She truly loves Nebbe. She's passed all our truth screening tests. They're nearly infallible."

"I'd still feel better knowing for certain."

"How would you verify?"

"I'm going to ask Spock to check her out with a mind meld. There's no possible way to lie to him. That's if I can get him to agree to do it." 

* * *

****

**Spock**

"Absolutely not."

He watched Una sigh. He was as unsurprised by her reaction as she was by his.

"To verify Sitta's authenticity for Equilibrium would require Spock to violate the Prime Directive," Michael said. "Why would you ask such a thing of him?"

"To save the lives of millions of Sebenniens who would otherwise die in an ongoing conflict," Una said.

"A conflict you helped create," said Spock. "I will not be party to this. I will not violate the Prime Directive."

"Even if it means saving my life, too?" Una asked.

"Even if."

Una nodded and stood from the chair at the table where Spock and Michael took their meals in private. "I figured as much. I just thought I'd ask."

"Trying to manipulate me into helping you in a war you shouldn't be involved in by playing on our friendship is devious and, I have to say, disappointing," said Spock. "Though it was not unexpected."

"We'll just chance it that Sitta is trustworthy," Una replied. "Sorry to have bothered you."

She left Spock and Michael's quarters and Michael came to sit on Spock's lap. She took his hand, finding it feverishly hot compared to human skin. His pulse was normally so rapid it would be fatal to maintain in a human. It was even faster now. She could sense his anger with Una.

"You did the right thing," Michael said.

"Did I? Because I have long questioned the morality of the Prime Directive. I want to help her, especially considering she's expecting a child now."

"Your duty is to Starfleet. Not her."

"She has been a friend to me for years, Michael. Would it not be unethical to send her into danger when I can spare her that?"

"This isn't your decision, Spock, it's hers. She's made it clear who she sides with and it isn't Starfleet. It's Sebenn. S'eh loh'k nuil."

"Sleep with a clear conscience," Spock translated. He felt a rush of affection for her unwavering support. "Thank you, Michael, but if something happens to her, my conscience will never be clear. I blame her for that as much as I do myself."

"That's fair. Now, how about dinner? I've made veggie delight casserole."

"Mother's recipe?"

Michael nodded and went over to the stove. "Amanda and Sarek travel with a store of Vulcan and Earth veggies in stasis aboard their shuttle. After we eat, I'm going to take them some."

"You hope a word with Father over dinner will smooth things over?"

She shrugged. He knew it sounded naïve to hope for so much for so little. Yet he'd also learned that the human capacity for hope was a well that ran deep and took a great deal to empty. They sat down to dinner. Spock ate each bite with relish. It was not only impeccably prepared; it was a taste of home. A mix of Vulcan and Earth vegetation that was, as its name claimed, a delight. They complimented one another, like he'd always seen with his parents. They were from different worlds, yet they worked.

Spock followed Michael to the area outside the village where his father's shuttle was parked. It wasn't lost on him that Michael carried the dish with trembling hands. They shook a little more as they reached the shuttle and she waited for entrance. Her eyes widened when Sarek answered the door and looked down on them.

"Your mother's veggie delight," Sarek stated.

"I don't know if you've eaten yet…Sarek."

"I have not. I'm sure your mo—Amanda, is hungry."

He moved away from the door and into his office where the door hissed shut with a sense of finality that broke Michael's heart. Spock walked over and pressed the door chime.

"Spock," Amanda said, her tone warning, but Spock refused to leave. Moments later the door hissed open.

"A word, Father."

"Ambassador," Sarek said. "You will address me as Ambassador."

"A word, Ambassador. Just the two of us."

Sarek stepped back and allowed Spock to enter. As the door closed, so did her sense of Spock through their bond.

"Did Spock close you out of your marriage bond, too?" Amanda asked.

Michael nodded and sat stiffly at the table, waiting for raised voices and heavy thuds from a fight. There was only silence. She didn't know what was happening, what they were saying, and it worried her that they were alone. She watched as Amanda heated the food and then sat to eat, her movements slow, steady, covering her worries with practiced ease. How had she managed to get so good at hiding her feelings? She could be emotional with the best of them, but right now she was as solid as a rock, when Michael wanted to fall apart.

The doors of the study slid open nearly forty minutes later, when Amanda had finished her meal. Spock emerged from the room and stood at the shuttle exit, back stiff, face with a slight green flush, but she was unable to read him, either through their bond or visually.

"Michael," Sarek said. "Congratulations on your bonding with Spock. You have always been my daughter, but now you are a true daughter of our house, as Spock's wife. May life as a married couple grant you every joy, and the blessing of many children. I beg your forgiveness for my behavior last night. I hope you can forgive."

Michael wasn't sure what to say. What did Spock have to do in order to elicit such a forgiving response from Sarek? She couldn't exactly forget his disgust learning she had married Spock willingly. Yet, at the same time, she was too relieved, too happy, to have a rare apology from Sarek.

"Of course," she said, standing and wishing she could hug the man who'd raised her as his own. "Thank you, Father?"

He nearly smiled at her. The look of love and warmth in his eyes was genuine. "I do not wish to part with you so soon this evening, but I am behind schedule in preparing with my meeting with the Diplomatic Prime, Hirra, in the morning. I trust you will look after your mother while I am away?"

"She's not going with you?"

"I feel the risk of taking her far outweighs the joy of her presence," he answered.

"I'll leave you to it, then. Thank you," she said. She kissed her mother goodbye, and then saluted her father, who returned it with a sense of warmth in the gesture.

"Wife, attend," Spock said, holding up his hand, two fingers forward. She placed her fingers over his and followed him from the shuttle. When the doors hissed shut, the dam she'd put into place to hold her emotions in check broke. Joy, relief that her father would hate her forever was unwarranted, came flooding out in a gush of tears.

"Spock, what did you say to him?"

"What Father and I discussed is a private matter between father and son. I ask that you content yourself with knowing that all is now well."

She threw herself into his arms, her love for him boundless. She sensed him open to her in that moment. To accept her joy, and revel in it with his own. He wrapped his arms around her, lifted her from her feet, and spun her around in a display of emotional openness that only heightened her happiness. She dismissed her fears that this was a red flag, rather than simply a moment to enjoy, as paranoia. Things rarely worked out with a happy ending for her. She'd let herself have something good this time. She'd let herself simply enjoy it.

"Take me home," she said, her voice breathless in his ear. "I need you on me. In me. Now."

"In that case," he said, setting her on her feet, as darkness swallowed the last of the natural daylight outside of the trees of Sedda Seh, "Wife, attend me, and I will attend you in return."

He held up his fingers, and she joined his again, enjoying the feel of his lust and love for her in the electric touch of their fingers skimming one another as they hurried to reach their humble home in the trees. 

* * *

****

**Una**

Sitta sat down in the chair across from Una and Dirre and listened to what they wanted her to do. When Dirre finished speaking, she turned to Una.

"You have doubts about my loyalty?"

"You were sent here to spy on Equilibrium. How do I know you can be trusted?" Una asked.

"You don't," she answered. "It's a calculated risk you'll have to take."

"Do we, though? Have to take this risk?" Una said, looking at Dirre. "I say there are other ways to get our information to the Queen."

"You can't fight a war without risk," Sitta said. "When I came to infiltrate Equilibrium I didn't expect to fall in love with Nebbe. But I did. I fell for him, I love him, and I will die before I betray him."

Una considered Sitta's words. Had she not also come to Sebenn with the task of simply retrieving the survivors of a crashed shuttlecraft, only to find herself mixed up with the locals war, betraying every ideal she ever believed in to ensure a better future for the love of a man she'd barely gotten to know? They were expecting a child. The first Human/Sebennien hybrid ever. Her loyalties were certain—she'd die for Linn. So why wouldn't Sitta die for Nebbe? She likely would, Una thought, but there was no way to guarantee it.

"I understand you are in need of reassurances," Sitta said. "I can only give you my word."

"Then I suppose that'll have to do," Una said. "I truly hope your love for Nebbe is sincere, because if you betray us, you betray him. He will face the consequences of a protracted battle the same way everyone else will. And if Equilibrium loses the war, nobody will be able to protect him."

"I will die before I betray my beloved," Sitta said. "That is all I can possibly say. Trust me or don't. The decision is yours. In the meantime, I've got work to do."

"You'll need to contact your sister, ask her to bring you in, now," Una said, unwilling to offer Sitta a chance to contact her people to warn them something is coming. Perhaps, if that was her goal, being denied it would rattle her. It was a long shot, but one Una took.

"Very well, give me this information. You can sit right there as I contact my sister. You can listen in on the conversation."

If she was thrown off balance, she didn't show it. Una showed Sitta the raw footage of Hirra's encounter with her husband, Medde. Her face soured as she took in the aftermath of the abuse.

"This woman is a sadist," Sitta said. "I feel so horribly for Medde and their daughter. This will be invaluable information for my sister. I'll see to it she gets it."

Sitta opened a secure line once Dirre and Una were out of her field of vision and waited to be patched through to the palace. Once she was, she greeted a woman that heavily resembled her, only Sitta had black hair, while this woman had a coppery shade of crimson that matched her spotting.

"Sister!" the queen said, sitting down in a tunic that Una found surprisingly humble for the ruler of the entirety of Sebennien society. "It's been almost a year since I've heard from you. I was beginning to wonder if you were even alive."

"I am so sorry, Marre," Sitta said. "I simply couldn't risk it before now. Nebbe and Dirre have just now given me enough trust to use their communications equipment. I don't have much time, so please listen carefully. I have discovered a plot to overthrow you."

Marre waved her hand. "Are you not aware we're at war for that very reason?"

"This comes from close to you. It's Hirra. I have proof."

"Do you need to be brought in?" Marre asked. "Is she a direct threat to you?"

"No, but she is to you, Sister. I will send the file I obtained now."

Marre sat back in her chair and waiting for the file to play out. "And I'm supposed to be surprised by this?" she finally said. "I know Hirra quite well. I know she wants the throne more than any of the other snakes that surround me daily. However, I was not aware she was prepared to harm innocent men and children to simply make an example out of them after I expressly forbade it."

"It makes tactical sense, Marre. It would demoralize them."

Una's belly fluttered. She exchanged a look with Dirre.

"How do you figure creating martyrs of those people makes sense?" Marre asked.

"How do I know you've not grown soft in my time away from you?" Sitta countered.

Marre's smile widened. "You know, I'd begun to wonder if you were still truly loyal to the crown. After years of living among the people of Sedda Seh, you'd be willing to see them burn to prove a point?"

"I don't want to see it, but if it is beneficial to you, then I would do it myself."

"I have a code of honor that is a bit more merciful than either you or Hirra," Marre said. "I would give out rights to the enemy before I take the lives of innocent people. I suppose having a son of my own has changed me."

"You have a son?" Sitta said, sitting back in astonishment.

"In secret," Marre said. "Not even the counsel knows of him. Only the Queen Consort and our nanny. Now you."

"You're supposed to abort it, Marre, not birth it!" said Sitta. Her anger sounded genuine as she sold her performance. At least Una hoped it was a performance. "Now you've set it up so that a male has a legitimate claim to the throne!"

Marre motioned to someone off-screen. A moment later, a baby is passed into her arms. He looked to be nearly two years of age. "Please refrain from referring to the Crown Prince as 'it'. I would die before I allowed harm to come to my son. Are you a threat to him, Sitta?"

"Of course not," she said, softening as she looked at the little boy with blond hair and light-yellow spotting. "God, he looks like Father."

"Yes. He is our father's namesake. Oppa of House Seh. Second of his name."

"Are you trying for a daughter at least?" Sitta asked.

There was such a long pause that Una worked out the answer before the queen spoke. "No. Not yet. Thank you for bringing Hirra's rather predictable treachery to my attention. I will have her arrested and executed."

"And her family along with her, as tradition dictates?" Sitta asked.

"You know," the queen said, after a pause, "the Council has begun to call me Marre the Merciful. They mean it as an insult, but I rather like it. I will not kill those who have done no wrong. Perhaps it's time to change traditions, Sitta."

"Marre, are you an Equilibrium sympathizer?"

"One cannot hope to have peace without a little sympathy," she hedged. "I need you to come home, Sitta. I need you to broker talks with this ambassador from the Federation. Once Hirra, and Hirra alone, has paid for her plots against the crown, we will need to take steps to heal our people. I need to know that I can count on the only blood family I have left."

Sitta placed a hand over her heart, palm flat. "I am with you, Sister. I may not agree with you on everything, but I am always loyal."

Sitta leaned back in her chair after shutting down the computer screen. Dirre and Una motioned for her to join them outside, worried that if they could spy on Hirra, then someone else could spy on Sitta's device.

"Anything strike you as odd about that?" Una asked. "Is your sister really that willing to consider peace for the sake of her son or could this all be a setup because she believes you've turned to Equilibrium's side?"

"There's always a chance she's putting on," Sitta acknowledged, "but I don't believe she is. I know my sister. She's my twin, after all. While we're not identical, we're very close."

"She's queen because she was birthed first," Dirre said. "By how long?"

"Three minutes."

"You're not bitter about that in any way?" asked Una.

"Oh yes," Sitta said, her voice dripping sarcasm. "I'm bitter that I haven't inherited a crown that someone is always plotting against me for. I'm bitter that I haven't inherited this war, that I don't wear the crown during a time of revolution."

"Perhaps you are."

Sitta turned just in time to see Spock reach for her face. Before she could react to defend herself, his hand made contact, and he was inside her mind, rummaging through her thoughts, her memories, her entire mind and heart, like a thief in search of her most valuable treasures. 

* * *

****

**Spock**

Michael was an arousing mixture of salty and sweet against Spock's tongue. He lapped at her most intimate parts like a man thirsting for lifegiving water. She was a wellspring of lust and love for him, from which he could drink deeply, and freely. He tried to focus on the task at hand, to commit every sound and every sight, smell and taste to memory. He gazed up at her from his place between her thighs, watched her face as he suckled her, watched her breasts heave with her labored breath. He would remember. He would always remember.

"Please, Spock…please…"

He would deny her nothing. He wiped at his chin and then kissed his way over her soft tummy, working his way up, only pausing at her nipples long enough to circle them with his tongue and to pull on the hardened buds before kissing his way to along her jawline and then plunging his tongue into her mouth. A moment later, he plunged into her, feeling her body part and surround him as he thrust into her. A loud moan escaped him at the sensation of her body taking him in, her muscles contracting in a subtle orgasm around his member. He paused only a moment to enjoy that feeling before he began moving. She was fully aroused, wet, almost hot around him, yet still tight enough to squeeze him as she rolled her pelvis along with him in a slow and steady rhythm.

"My love," he whispered. She sighed and tangled a hand in his hair, pulling him close to stroke his back as he moved inside of her. A few obscenities slipped past his lips as he fought the urge to just pound into her. Not that she would mind, but he wanted to take his time with her. Make it last this time.

Apparently, Michael was at odds with him about what she wanted. She picked up the pace and he followed, driving into her as he sensed, through their marital bond, that she wanted it hard, fast. He got up on his knees and pulled her up to him, held onto her legs, and then renewed his thrusts with more vigor. She grunted from the force of his thrusts. He found the bouncing of her breasts arousing, and he reached out to caress them as he continued to fuck her. This wasn't lovemaking. Not anymore, not in that sentimental way humans enjoyed so much. He was screwing her, holding onto her legs and pounding into her in a way that drove her mad and inflamed her passions. A rush of wet warmth told him she'd finally come. She was slicker than ever. Now that he'd satisfied her, could feel her fluttering around him, he let himself lose control and pounded into her with such force, and speed, she sobbed his name and clenched him tight. He felt the rush of his release so powerfully it ripped a loud moan from him.

He struggled for his breath before he collapsed beside her. Michael turned to him, laying her head on his shoulder, her breath hot and fast on his chest.

I love you.

And I you, Wife. Forever.

Life was perfect in that moment. Lying in bed with his wife, holding her in the afterglow of sex that never ceased to amaze him. That moment was what he would carry with him in the moments to come after this.

"Sleep, now," said Spock. "We'll need our rest for tomorrow."

"What happens tomorrow?" she asked, already drifting to sleep.

It took all his training in emotional suppression to keep the truth from her in their bond. When she fell asleep, he stroked her face before his fingers settled against them.

"Tomorrow, we go back to how it was before. My mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts."

With a heart so heavy he thought it would kill him, Spock undid their marriage bond. He went a step further, feeling dirty, and sick, as he violated her mind to bury the memory of their marriage, their lovemaking, their bonding, and everything that happened on Sebenn since they were reunited, per his agreement with Sarek. Once that was done, he dressed her, gazed upon her face, and then carried her outside and down to the shuttlecraft where his parents waited with Baratta, Kak, and Sinat. Yeoman Kerry also awaited; his face was strangely blank, as was Kak's and Baratta's, since Sarek had wiped their memories of everything that happened on Sebenn. Only Sinat remained intact, having sworn to never speak of events there.

"They will believe they were in a coma," Sarek said. "As will Michael."

Amanda looked heartbroken. Sick. A reflection of what Spock felt. His mirror. She'd always been the mirror in which he could see his human half.

"How could you, Sarek?" Amanda asked.

"Because it is right," he said. "Give her to me so that I may take her home."

Spock handed Michael's unconscious form over to the man who'd fathered him but would never be his father. As far as he was concerned, any hope at reconciliation was dead. He gained his daughter back, unsullied by their marriage, at least in Sarek's eyes, and lost his son. That was, apparently, an agreeable exchange for him.

"I hate you for this," Spock said, letting tears roll down his face. "I will never pardon you for what you've taken from me. From her."

"I expect you will not. Yet I do this for her good, and yours, my son."

"I am not your son."

There was a shimmer in Sarek's eyes that Spock knew were unshed tears. Yet Sarek still held Michael, even as he bowed.

"Understood."

With the taste of her still in his mouth, the smell of her on his skin, Spock turned from his parents, from his fellow officers in Starfleet, and made his way towards the village, ignoring his mother's pleas to return to the Enterprise with them. Lost, uncertain of what would come next. He heard the shuttlecraft engines start up, and moments later, they were gone. That's when he saw her. Una, his former commander on the Enterprise, speaking with Dirre and Sitta.

"…I haven't inherited this war, that I don't wear the crown during a time of revolution," Sitta was saying.

Without regard to the Prime Directive, to what it could mean for his career, Spock detoured from the home he'd made with Michael. He'd never look at that space again. Never indulge in the memories of it. He'd not enter the room and smell her scent strong in the air to grieve for her. He'd only allow himself to feel the raw wound left behind by the severing of their bond, and the knowledge that the next time she saw him, she'd have no memory of all they'd shared on Sebenn. She'd believe she was wounded and had laid comatose in Sitta's clinic, having missed out on everything that happened, unaware of the life she'd led for over a month with the man she called her foster brother.

"Perhaps you are," Spock said. And, in an act of defiance against his father, against Starfleet, and the very ideals he'd held dear, he dove into Sitta's mind. He'd discover the truth about her loyalties for Equilibrium. And he would fight alongside them.

"Spock, what are you doing?" Una asked, shocked by his change of heart, and his boldness. He dove into Dirre's thoughts after he finished with Sitta.

"I'm joining Equilibrium," he said, after withdrawing from Dirre's mind, leaving the man shaken and unsteady on his feet. "I will fight alongside you."

"Where's Michael?" Una asked.

"Never speak of her to me again," he said, his voice heated, his emotions laid out bare and raw for all of them to see. "Sitta speaks the truth. She is not a traitor to Equilibrium. Neither of them are. What are we going to do next?"

"You're going to go back to Enterprise," Una said. "You're not—"

"You are not my commanding officer. Not in Starfleet, and not here," Spock said, cutting her off.

"You're clearly upset and angry," Sitta said. "That makes you a liability."

"That makes me a blunt instrument, so use me wisely," Spock said. "Now what comes next?"

"Dirre!"

Cinn came rushing into the village, his clothes soaked with blood. His face bruised almost beyond recognition. Nebbe had approached and kissed his wife's lips, but was soon caught off guard by Cinn's arrival.

"They're coming! They'll be here in—"

Cinn's eyes widened as something thrust its way through his chest. Moments later, he was ripped in half. There, sitting on the back of a beast with six arms, all of them ending in paws with dangerously sharp claws that dripped silver poison, a savver, as they were called, sat Hirra, in full silver battle armor and a smug smirk on her face. The rest of her army rode on antigravity cycles that hovered a few feet off the ground.

"Kill them all!" Hirra commanded. "Leave not one woman, man, or child alive! Raze this village to the ground!"

"We're too late!" Una said.

"I'll contact the queen," Sitta said. "I'll request backup!"

Hirra hurled her ceremonial spear at Sitta with deadly accuracy. She dove aside to avoid it, but Spock had already snatched it out of the air, spun, and hurled it back as Nebbe led Sitta back into her clinic. Spock watched as the spear tip buried itself deep into the savvers chest. The beast gave one roar before falling to the ground, dead. Hirra rolled off the beast and came to her feet, gun raised at Spock, who charged her, moving in a zig zag pattern, avoiding her attempts to shoot.

"Disable the enemy weapons!" Dirre shouted into a device strapped to his wrist. "Enable weapons with a Starfleet signature!"

Hirra's gun stopped firing, and Spock dove toward the half of Cinn's body that had the phaser still strapped to his boot. He rolled out of the way of a well-aimed kick from Hirra and set the phaser to kill. He aimed it at her.

"This weapon is set to kill," he warned her.

"I was told Vulcan's don't condone murder."

"We do not, but this is war, self-defense isn't murder, and I'm a man who's just lost everything he holds dear."

He pulled the trigger but Hirra proved herself to be quite fast. She ducked before she and three of her warriors attacked him en mass. She kicked the phaser out of his hand and drew two daggers as the other women attempted to hold him down. He threw them off easily but used one woman as a shield. She cried out as Hirra's daggers plunged into her chest.

Spock kicked out, but Hirra feinted, spun, and drove the daggers down in another attempt to kill him. Spock rolled out of the way and was on his feet moments later, only to find himself surrounded by Hirra's guards, all of them with bladed weapons drawn. Two women screamed as they disintegrated. Spock risked a glance back to see Una aiming at more soldiers, a Starfleet-issue phaser in hand.

"Fall back!" Hirra shouted. "Regroup!"

"Spock?" Una said. "You can't come back from this. You'll be a fugitive from the Federation. Go home while you still can."

"There is nothing for me in Starfleet. Sarek has seen to that. No more talk. There is only the fight now"

Spock turned from his former CO and dove into battle. He allowed his pain and rage to fuel him. To drive him into battle where he killed one enemy combatant after another. Though he saved many innocent people, he didn't attempt to delude himself into thinking he killed for such a noble endeavor. He killed out of pain, rage, and despair. He killed out of hatred for his father, the one man he'd foolishly believed would understand his love for Michael.

Something slammed into him, knocking him to the ground just as two daggers lodged in a tree where he'd stood fuming only moments ago. Linn lay atop him, a dagger already protruding from his back. Blood poured from his mouth. He was fatally wounded, and his last act in life was to save Spock's.

"Daggers… poisoned…"

Foam formed at his lips and he began to convulse and choke on blood.

"Linn?" Spock queried.

Linn twitched once more before going still, breathing his last. Spock looked around. Those who killed quickly, he soon realized, showed mercy. Those who were merely cut died by poison, slowly and painfully. All it took was a cut, or a knick. Hirra's worriors didn't care if they dealt out swift or slow deaths from the elderly down to babies. They just swooped in and murdered anyone not dressed in the gleaming silver of Hirra's army.

Spock retrieved the daggers and saw the hilts had vials of poison attached, constantly coating the blades with deadly toxins. He stepped over Linn's body and joined in the fray, using the poisoned daggers against the enemy, making them suffer as much as he could. 

* * *

****

**Una**

Sitta called her sister, who cursed when she heard how quickly Hirra acted on her plans.

"I am sending backup right now. Tell Dirre their weapons signature and to let them through the grid. They are not the enemy."

"He won't trust it."

"He'd better, or Sedda Seh will fall. Trust has to be earned on both sides."

"I'll let them through," Dirre said, revealing himself by stepping behind Sitta. "If this proves to be treachery, I will personally slit your sister's throat."

"You could try," Mirre said. "But such threats aren't necessary. I am on my way."

"I advise against that, Mirre! You have a son to think of," Sitta said.

"I have a duty to my people. All of my people."

The screen went blank. There would be no further argument.

Sitta stood from the chair and faced Dirre. "If my sister proves herself here, will you be willing to talk? To compromise?"

"That is all I have ever asked for," he said.

"Very well then. Let's go fight for our people," she said. She injected something into her arm, and then his. "Antidote to the venom in their daggers. I'll release it into the air and give the children a fighting chance at least. But I need help getting canisters of it out to the people."

"Then that's our mission," Una said. She stood in the doorway, holding her side where she was certain a couple of ribs were broken. There were no visible wounds, but she could hardly move without pain.

"I'll be fine," she said. "I've got my phaser."

"That's debatable," said Sitta. "I need to look you over-"

"No time. Come on. I need to find Linn, make sure he and the baby are safe."

After receiving a pain killer that barely worked, but left her clear-headed, Una charged into the night with Dirre and Sitta. 

* * *

****

**Spock**

The air became bitter as some kind of has tainted it. Spock expected to feel something, some sign that he'd soon die of whatever chemical Hirra attacked with, but nothing happened. In fact, it didn't take long before the poison in his daggers stopped working against the enemy. He quickly concluded that an antidote had been spread through the village. Only it worked for the enemy as well as it worked for their people. Still, he deemed it a logical strategy to minimize civilian casualties from cuts.

Minutes passed like hours in the fight. It would've disturbed Spock at the sheer numbers of warriors Hirra had amassed so quickly. From what Spock had gathered, Hirra had only hours to gather forces and move against Sedda Seh. How long had she really planned this? How many people had agreed to join her merely to spite the queen, embarrass, her, and undermine her claim to the throne?

Spock's dagger slipped from his grip. He looked down at his hands. Red with blood to his wrist. His tunic was heavily stained with it. He should've been repelled by it, but something primal in him cried out for more. Something tugged on his trousers leg. He raised his hand to strike when he looked down to see that it was a child. A little boy with blue hair and spotting. A red cut and a lump marred his forehead. Lying dead beside him was a man.

"Daddy won't get up," he said in a tiny voice. "I can't find mommy."

Fat tears ran down the boys' face. His father was lost to him forever. His mother's fate uncertain to his future. Spock knelt beside him..

"I lost my father today, too. I don't know what will happen with my mother, either."

The child had no understanding of Spock's words. He only had his fear.

"I'm scared. I want my daddy."

Something broke inside Spock. He let tears fall and scooped the boy up.

"I will get you somewhere safe," he said. "Then I will find your mother. What is her name?"

"Her name is Mommy," the boy answered.

In happier times, Spock may have smiled. For now, he simply tried to see through the fog to find a safe place to stash the boy.

"What is your name?"

"Ette."

"Children over here!"

A man and woman were ushering children into a cavernous room carved into the base of an enormous tree. Inside were tables and chairs. It looked like a banquet hall of some sort.

"This boy is named Ette. His father is dead. Do you know his mother?"

"Lille," someone answered. "She was wounded. I don't know where she is, but we'll try to look out for Ette."

"You will be safe here," Spock said, when the boy clung to him. The caretakers pried him loose and Spock returned to battle. He was, however, no less inclined to kill, especially when Hirra's people began setting fire to the trees.

"No! No!"

"Una!"

Spock followed the familiar voices and found Una kneeling over Linn's body, openly weeping. Dirre tried to pull her to her feet while also shooting at the enemy.

"Help her!" he shouted and returned to firing on the seemingly endless number of soldiers that stormed the village.

"I know your pain," Spock said, kneeling beside her.

"You can't possibly. My man…my child…Gone."

He touched her face, showed her everything he'd lost that day, and tried to take some of her pain onto his shoulders to ease her burden, but Una refused. She wiped her face, closed Linn's eyes, and then got to her feet. Spock watched her square her shoulders and compartmentalize her emotions, going from grieving lover to efficient, deadly soldier in the span of a few breaths.

"Let's find that bitch and kill her. Together," she said.

Spock nodded in agreement and headed into the smoke. Villagers worked to put out the flames, but it was a losing battle. He looked back to the home he'd once made with Michael and found it completely engulfed in fire. He was relieved. It wouldn't remain there to haunt him. To tie him down to the memories of what he'd shared with her inside those walls, and act as a torturous reminder of what they would never have. Not on Sebenn, not on the Shenzhou, the Enterprise, not anywhere.

"Follow the ones who run!"

That was Hirra's voice. Una and Spock attempted to follow, but the smoke burned their eyes and throats. Then she was there, right in front of Spock, and he felt the hot pain of the dagger she thrust deep into his gut. He watched as Una drove her own dagger to the hilt into one of Hirra's guard. Spock gripped her wrist, which still gripped the dagger tight, and pulled it out. He took hold of her neck and held tight before turning her own dagger toward her. She struggled in his grip, but even wounded, he was much too strong for her.

"No," she raged, watching the dagger inch toward her chest.

"Oh, but yes."

Surprise was the only thing that loosened Spock's grip when Medde emerged from the smoke, standing behind Hirra, a dagger of his own in hand. She looked back at him.

"Medde, kill him!" Hirra said, smirking at Spock, who hesitated to drive the blade into her.

"I'm Equilibrium, you murderous bitch, not your slave, not your punching bag," he said, standing behind her and putting a dagger to her throat. "I want you to know that falsified the medical records. I birthed a son and switched him with your cousin's daughter. I will raise our son to fight against women like you. But for now, you will die at a man's hand. At my hand."

"No, no!"

She started to struggle but Medde pulled the blade across her neck. The resentment on her face turned to fear as blood poured from the wound. Medde allowed her to drop to the ground at his feet and too satisfaction as he watched her bleed out, clutching her throat in a desperate, and fruitless, effort to live.

Warriors in golden armor began flooding the area while fire-suppression drones flew through the village putting out fires. A woman in full battle armor, and bearing an unmistakable resemblance to Sitta, led them in, ordering them to slaughter Hirra's silver-armored warriors as traitors to the crown. As Spock's vision blurred, and dimmed, he saw Una and Medde rushing to his side. 

* * *

****

**Epilogue**

Spock awoke in Sitta's clinic with a device strapped to his chest. He recognized it as Sebennian tech, and it did a quicker job of healing his stab wound than anything available in Starfleet. The Sebennien people had opted to work on developing healing technology more than weapons, it would seem. He searched the room for Michael, but his mother was the only one with him.

"My son. You're awake."

"Michael?"

"She's fine," Amanda said. "She's aboard the Shenzhou again. She has no memory of what happened here."

"The Federation is just going to go along with it? You are?"

Amanda swallowed and looked down. "Sarek has a lot of pull with Starfleet. They feel that his work in getting Michael and the others released warranted the mind-wipe. The record will reflect his report. Not even captain Georgiou is privy to the truth. Sarek also altered Yeoman Kerry, Ensign Baratta, Lieutenant Kak's memories of events so that they believe they were in comas as well. Only Lieutenant Sinat remains aware of the facts, and he has sworn an oath not to speak of what really happened between you and Michael."

"Even Sarek is not worthy of that level of respect. That you would condone his actions—"

"I am not in agreement with Sarek on this, my son."

"Yet you will continue to live with him as his wife?"

Amanda fell silent for a long while, pacing the small room while lost in thought.

"If you and Michael were to switch places with Sarek and me, would you put your wife away? Would you be able to love her for over thirty years of your life, have a child with her, and then abandon that marriage because you disagree with her on an issue even as sensitive as this?"

"If she wounded our child as Sarek has wounded me, yes, I think I would."

"Then you are stronger than I, my son. I do not agree with Sarek, but I cannot make myself stop loving him. I am sorry if it seems I choose him over you—"

"It would not be the first time you went along with him to the detriment of my happiness, my well-being," he said, forcing himself to his feet and suppressing a moan of pain as he did.

"Spock, please. You're not finished healing."

"I cannot be in your presence right now, Mother. I wish you to respect that and give me space."

"Are you putting me away as you did your father?"

"I do not know," he answered honestly. "You love Sarek, yet you seem incapable of understanding that Michael and I shared love every bit as deep and abiding as you. Ask yourself if you could so easily forgive a person who took the most precious thing in your life, your marriage, your soul mate, ripped that away from you, and forced you to live without him. It is no less pain than if someone cleaved me in half and left me to suffer raw wounds that will never fully heal. Perhaps someday I will forgive. For now, I do not. Goodbye, Mother."

He walked from the room. Sitta immediately came from around the desk and tried to convince him to allow himself time to heal properly but he refused. "I tried to help a boy named Ette. His mother was named Lille. Are they well?"

Sitta looked the information up and then nodded. "Both are alive, reunited. How well they're doing is a matter of opinion right now, but they will recover someday. As for recovery, are you certain you won't stay a few more hours to heal?"

"I will recover aboard Enterprise, thank you. Where is Una?"

"She's aboard your ship," Sitta said. "You and your mother are the only off-worlders left here. They want you to return, but the Queen is willing to offer you asylum."

"That will not be necessary, though I thank you. I have decided I will return to the Enterprise to face court martial. Where is Nebbe?"

"He…he was killed protecting our people," Sitta said. Her eyes moistened with tears that soon spilled down her face. "I didn't know it until today. He was with child."

Spock swallowed the lump in his throat and reached out to touch Sitta's hand. "You have my sympathies. I am sorry to hear this. May I ask how talks are going?"

"Very well," Sitta said. Ambassador Sarek is doing a remarkable job mediating between the crown and Dirre. I will take over for him soon. I have been tapped to replace Hirra as Diplomatic Prime. I only hope to do half the job your father has."

Hearing such praise for his father sickened Spock but he didn't give it way. He merely bowed his head as Sitta wiped at her eyes. "Mr. Spock, I must say it has been an honor and a privilege to have gotten to know you and your people, even if they no longer remember us. I won't forget any of you."

"Nor I you," he said. He held up a hand in the Vulcan salute. "Live long and prosper, Sitta, of House Seh."

"You as well," she said, bowing to him.

He said nothing more as his mother came to stand beside him and flipped open a communicator. "Enterprise. Two to beam up."

Spock stepped off the transporter pad, unable to look at his father without betraying the rage and hatred he felt for the man. He kept his eyes trained on Captain Pike instead.

"Sir," he said. "I willfully disregarded my oath to Starfleet and purposefully violated the Prime Directive to fight in the Sebennien civil war. I now submit myself, without protest, for disciplinary action."

"That won't be necessary, Spock," Captain Pike said.

Spock raised a brow. "Not necessary, Sir?"

"We received the medical reports from Sebenn. Along with Ambassador Sarek's rather strenuous arguments in support of your pardon, Starfleet Medical, as well as our own Chief Medical Officer, agrees that both you and Una were not of a clear mind while on the planet's surface. You were under the influence of hormonal forces beyond your control that caused you to behave in poor judgeme—"

"I reject such an argument, Sir, and submit that I was clear of mind when I fought with the Sebenniens and involved myself in their civil war."

"Spock, I'm ordering you to shut the hell up right now," Captain Pike said in a deadly serious tone. "You weren't yourself, neither was Number One. That has been medically proven. Both of you think you acted of your own will, but we have judged that you did not. That is the final verdict. You will accept it, as Number One has. Now, you will both be suspended from duty for a total of six months and will return to Earth and Vulcan, respectively, for full medical evaluations and counseling for post traumatic stress disorder. After that you will return to your full rank and the responsibilities that rank entails. Am I clear?"

"Perfectly, Sir," was the only answer Spock could think of.

"You are to remain in your quarters until the transport ship departs to return you to Vulcan in two days."

"Understood, Sir."

"Dismissed."

Spock placed his hands behind his back and walked from the room, ignoring Sarek and Amanda both. He heard his father's footsteps behind him.

"I did all I could to persuade them not to court martial you or your—"

Spock turned to face his father, grateful that neither his mother nor his captain had followed.

"This is the last time I will speak to you," Spock said, "so heed my words, Ambassador. You cannot buy my forgiveness. You cannot bargain for it. You cannot concoct an argument logical enough to excuse the fact that you have ripped my soul in half for your pride and your pride alone. You used Michael's love for you as leverage to bend me to your will. You wanted to break me: I assure you that I stand before you a broken man, yet I have no doubt that you care nothing for the cost of what you have done, as long as you can claim victory. You once accused me of raping her, yet it was you who coerced me into doing just that when you forced me to violate my wife's mind and take from her that which she would never have given of her own free will. You did so out of shame and disgust for our love and our union. Respect my wish that you never attempt to contact me again, for any reason. Consider me as dead to you as you are to me. Goodbye, Sarek."

Spock turned his back and resumed the short trek to his quarters, where he sealed himself inside and wept the most bitter tears of his life thus far. 

* * *

****

**Michael**

Michael awoke in sickbay aboard the Shenzhou. She looked up at the bright lights above and squinted until they were dimmed by a handsome doctor who smiled as he leaned over her.

"Dr. Culber," she said, sitting up and looking around the empty sickbay.

"Welcome back," he said, in that soft, kind way that made his patients feel at ease, even under confusing and frightening circumstances. "How do you feel?"

"Fine. What happened?"

"Your shuttle crash landed on a planet called Sebenn. Do you remember that?"

She wracked her brain. She recalled being on the shores of a lake, speaking with Kak and Kerry, before her memory went blank. Dr. Culber listened and then touched her arm gently.

"I'm afraid you went into a coma from head trauma," he said. "You were on Sebenn, in their medical facilities, for a month before Ambassador Sarek was able to negotiate for your freedom."

"Sarek? A month? We've been gone for a month?"

He nodded and helped her get down from the bed. She felt fine, physically, but was shaken at the idea of losing an entire month of her life at the blink of an eye.

"The Enterprise is here," he said. "They'd originally come to pick you up but when they went down to the surface, they were held captive by the locals. I believe your foster brother, Spock, was among the away team. Would you like to speak with your foster parents?"

She swallowed and nodded, nervous, and Culber patted her arm. "They're aboard the Enterprise. Captain Georgiou has already given your clearance to beam over before we depart in a couple of hours. I'm clearing you as fit for duty beginning tomorrow, if you're ready."

"I think I'll be fine. Just sorry I missed out on shore leave."

Culber laughed with her. "You'll get another shot at it soon, I'm sure."

Michael slipped into a casual pant suit that she replicated in sickbay and then headed for the nearest transporter room, her belly aflutter at the idea that she could finally see her foster brother after spending years apart. She was greeted by Sarek and Amanda in the transporter room. They welcomed her with open arms and joy, as always, but she got the sense something was amiss. There was a kind of strained energy between them that she couldn't put a finger on.

"I'm going to see Spock. Is he on duty?"

"He is resting in his quarters," Amanda said. "Perhaps now isn't the best time to—"

"I have to try," Michael said.

She hurried past her parents and out of the room before they could put up too much of a fuss. She all but ran, feeling an anxious need to be close to him. The urgency of it baffled her, but she let her feet carry her as swiftly as possible to his door. He answered almost immediately. But when his eyes fell upon her, she was sorry to see the same pain in them that she'd seen since they last parted.

"Spock," she said. Then she realized she had two fingers held up. The greeting of a wife to her husband. Spock's eyes looked down at her hand, and then back up at her when she quickly dropped it. "Sorry! I don't know why I had the urge to do that."

"Nor do I. What do you want?"

Michael swallowed past her disappointment at the harshness in her tone. "I was hoping we could have lunch together, before you leave. Catch up since we're face to face."

"That will not be possible."

"Please…Brother."

He'd started to turn, his profile was to her now. She was outright shocked when he sucked in a breath and his eyes moistened with tears. "Never address me as such again. I am not your brother."

"No. At one time you were so much more. Spock, I have this overwhelming need to tell you that right or wrong I'm with you. For you. I don't know why I need to say that, but I mean it."

He was trembling, visibly, before he took a deep breath. As he had the first time they met, in childhood, Spock gave her an icy look, and then shut the door in her face. It wouldn't open when she tried the release. She stood there, hands on the door, face pressed against the cool of the door, tears streaming down her cheeks. She swore she could sense him on the other side. They had once shared a marriage bond, but it seemed he'd broken it at some point between their last encounter and now. Yet somehow, she could feel him. 

* * *

****

**Spock**

Spock leaned on the other side of the door. He knew she was still there, likely pressing her face and hands to it as he did now. He could feel her, and he was certain she could feel him, too. After all, once bonded, it was difficult to completely break. That would take time, and the breaking of their bond was too soon for them to go completely oblivious to one another. Even with the mind meld the memories were buried deep in her subconscious, where she couldn't reach them. Yet she'd been compelled to greet him as his wife, and she'd been compelled to assure him she was his ally, as she had on Sebenn. The pain of it all threatened to undo his self control. He longed to open the doors, pull her to him, and start fresh with her right then. But the cost would be too much. This way was more merciful. For her, at least. After a few moments she receded. Leaving him, though not of her own free will.

She left him thinking he hated her, when, in fact, he loved her more than he loved his next heartbeat.


End file.
